To Sedate
by Kyoka-BOO
Summary: With the meeting of just one person, Fuji's life is going to be turned upside down, most literally and have the meaning of logic redefined. All of this, all the trouble and pain caused by one thing: Love. Fuji never would've guessed it before. [Shonen ai]
1. Chapter 1

EDITED 21 MAY 2007

Well, here we are, with a better, more edited version. I finished it, and hopefully now, it's in a better tense and easier to understand, even though I'll probably end up rewriting it in a few months or so. I'm not sure which will come first, more chapter edits, or a new chapter itself. I only have a week until exams, though, so I might stick to editing since it's less time consuming.

Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama doesn't belong to me. All rights are reserved to their respected holders. Any character that hasn't been created by me doesn't belong to me.

If you do end up reading, please, review. I'd really appreciate it. All writers love some constructive critiques. Thank you, again! Enjoy.

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**To Sedate- Chapter 1**

Fuji had always liked the spring. It was the time in which it was warm, but not as hot and sticky like the summer weather brought. A blur would pass, which would be the only sign of the passage of time. Summer melted into fall, and fall would melt into winter. Only then does it switch back to spring, where ever so slowly, life springs up. Coincidentally, spring is notorious for the bad weather and frequent rainstorms. Fuji never had really minded the rain, though. It was a pleasant way to prove life was being renewed. When the warmer weather approached, he would through his bedroom window open risking the fact that just a while later, after the wind blew cold and the air grew moist that he'd be struggling against the pull of the gusts of air to get his windows closed while he and his floor would be soaked.

While some people would say "What horrid weather," at the sight of such, Fuji would only smile, as the torrents of water, drenching the ground in sheets, would hit his window like bullets. The view of the outside landscape would become blurred and gray, as if somebody had spilled a cup of water across a paining. Through the city, people will make their way through the storm with their umbrellas. What's a little rain going to stop them from traveling to work and school, anyways? Fuji is no exception, but he sometimes would be caught on a day where it rains and he forgot his umbrella. Then, he doesn't mind. Even in the rain, where most people retreat to the safety of the clubhouse, he can play tennis. He would glide across the court as if sped up, kicking puddles of water up and getting his shoes wet. Sure, it got slippery, but the rain was only yet another opponent for him. Fuji liked his opponents, to. Being a prodigy, he was so rarely challenged that whenever a risk was added on to something, it just became more of an interesting game for him. Tezuka Kunimitsu is a prime example of one of those challenges.

What Fuji especially likes is when the sakura petals scatter, being blown by the wind. A simple gust whittles them away with passing winds, creating a complex melody among a landscape turning green. The soft, almost mute symphony is enough to make Fuji smile. The rain looks nice against the pink petals, too. The water will form rivulets downhill and carry the sakura petals along with them. One day, he things to himself, he'd rather like to go to a sakura festival with Tezuka and enjoy a peaceful celebration with his friend. Yeah, that would be fun.

Today, Eiji is trotting alongside Fuji like he often does, because they're practically best friends. Fuji is happy to reply to anything that Eiji asks or says, unlike Tezuka because of two reasons. For one, he is quite closer to Eiji than Tezuka was, and for two, he talked far more than Tezuka did. After all, Tezuka was a man of few words. His voice was like rain to Fuji's ears, but he seldom heard it, and in a way, it bothered him. Today, at tennis club they are the regulars are practicing volleying while the freshmen go around collecting balls. Fuji and Eiji are practicing together, but Fuji's mind happened to be elsewhere.

"Fuji-kun?" a questioning voice asks him, making Fuji turn his head just in time to sidestep from a ball that would have hit him smack dab in the middle of the forehead. The ball whizzes closely to his shoulder and lands just on the white line, still in-bounds. Tezuka stares over at him for a moment, and Fuji momentarily wonders why he wasn't able to return such an easy volley. After all, Eiji's aim hadn't been to score. They were just practicing on hitting it back and forth. Eiji's must have noticed that he was especially distracted today, for he was tilting his head to the side in a curious, almost puppy-like manner and scratching the back of his head.

"Hey, are you distracted, Fujiko? Nya!" Eiji's questioned seemed meddling, but after all, Eiji was a close friend, and all he was doing was voicing his concern for Fuji. Distantly, Fuji was startled, but managed to shake his head in order to provide some sort of reassurance to his friend.

"No. Let's continue."

_You're falling into obsession. Tezuka knows it. You know it. Admit it._

Through a wave of sakura petals, time passes slowly. The pink sea is a signal of the passage of time itself, showing the growth of the bond between the two. The boundaries between Tezuka and Fuji remain the same. That was all because of the fact that outwardly, neither boy seemed too have much of a desire to get intimately close to each other. If somebody who knew Fuji very well were to analyze it, they would be able to tell that this was Fuji's deepest desire. However, Tezuka on the other hand, was a completely different story. Rarely conveying many emotions at all, it was hard for the ever-calculating Fuji to be able to tell whether or not Tezuka had such a wish. That, Fuji doubted.

Slowly, Fuji was beginning to get used to the feeling, at least, that's what he liked to tell himself. No,, he wasn't lonely. Fuji liked to deny the sort of thing, to shun the fantasies of kissing Tezuka, and everything else. Until everything is gone, Fuji would scoff at them for them being the fantasies they were. He'd always been told that it wasn't wrong at all to dream, and up until now, he hadn't thought so, either. Now, though, he didn't like it, for those dreams were filled with longing and pain. There was a difference in that. From just simple friendship, Fuji would never think that such a thing as something significant beginning to blossom. Nowadays, his hopes are uncontrollable, and as soon as Fuji tries to ouch them, the image that he had in mind distorts, and makes him squint out of confusion. The image that always was distinguishable was Tezuka. Never before, though, have has thoughts been so taunting as to make him want just a single person so much that it hurt.

_This isn't the real you. It simply cannot be. No, your real potential is locked away. The real you is locked away, too. _Tezuka and Fuji would have a match, soon. Fuji had, indeed, been looking forward to that since their first year when they first faced off with each other. He tries to tell himself that, yet, they'd gotten distracted. Now, Fuji feels as if he needs to settle this between them, to really determine who was better, and reassure that as soon as they faced off, these strange fantasies would be over. Somehow, he knows they won't, but it doesn't hurt to hope. Maybe after this, he would be able to proceed without Tezuka.

Now, the wind whipped his hair crazily. Frowning, he wondered to himself about life. _Where is the real me? Where is it? _Frankly, he didn't know. He's never needed to try that hard, only a few times before. In a way, it's thrilling, even though he wants it to go faster. However, with the faster it goes, the les bearable it becomes.

Today, Fuji decided that he would stay late, once again. Tezuka always seems to, too; the duties of being a captain aren't the only things that keep him busy. Fuji, though, having no obligations other than being part of the regulars, shouldn't have found any sort of reason to stay any later after tennis practice. It was easy for Tezuka and Fuji to cross paths after practice, especially when there weren't many people at school. Fuji would smile in front of that mask, partially for Tezuka's sake, partially for his own. Even now, thought, after their match, they seemed to still be addicted to each other's presence. It could be shameful; at least, that's how a bystander would describe it. Fuji fails to detect such a thing. He's caught up far too much in his confusing thoughts of Tezuka and the concept of attraction.

A pair of lips pressing together can cause a lot of chaos, whether it is in private, or most embarrassingly, in public. Fuji contemplates on what it would be like if he were to be kissed. Not in public, of course—he just wonders what it would be like to _kiss._ In the past, he would've tried to divert such thoughts. They seemed to come quite naturally now, though; it was more natural than being hit smack dab in the forehead due to lack of attention, of course. For a brief moment, he was highly annoyed about how Tezuka was able to do such things to him. Somehow, though, it remained hidden. His painful longing was silent, muffled as if hidden behind a sturdy brick wall.

They used to talk about love, sometimes. It was casual, and somewhat offhanded. They were at 'that age', as most would say. They were young and going through the stages of puberty, so it was normal. Of course, it wasn't they discussed the idea of love with _each other._ No, they talked about girls. It was offhanded, and Fuji's interest in women was fleeting. They had nice bodies, but there was something about him that just turned him away from them. Perhaps it was the fact that they were too clingy sometimes, or the ones he knew seemed a little whiny. That wasn't to say that he didn't have great respect for his sister; he just didn't like the idea of dating one.

It sometimes felt like there were prison bars between he and Tezuka. There was some sort of literal barrier there, and Fuji could've fairly called himself a coward for running away from his problems like this. Don't run away, he would tell himself. It was helpless of him to deny it. No… he wouldn't deny it; he just wanted to think about the concept of telling the captain of his obsession. Fuji wanted to think that it's lust. That time, though, his smile was bitter. Lust was an entirely different thing than love or like. He could have called it that at one time, but the concept that he thought about a lot wasn't only about how attractive Tezuka was, but something far deeper. That wasn't love, though, was it? It was admiration and lust. If he called it anything else, even though he did all the time, he would be sickly wrong. _Hypocrite..._

There was a spiraling insanity, though, that seemed so impossible to get rid of that Fuji couldn't do anything to stop it, no matter what. He tries to divert his mind from Tezuka, yet his attempts remain highly unsuccessful, and so much that he really wants to scream as a result of it. Life isn't fair sometimes. Fuji is a mature young man, but he knows that he can't let go of Tezuka. That doesn't stop the childish questions, still. "Why so?" If Tezuka meant to do this to him, then he had succeeded, and was laughing in triumph right at this very moment. Fuji was so caught up in these emotions that he was growing to be very week. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he was thrilled so much because Tezuka, who was such a good opponent, was exciting when he was given the chance to play with him. However, it took all hiss self-control after a while not to blush when a simple gesture such as a pat on the shoulder was given.

He and Tezuka have gotten into the habit of playing checkers. Originally Fuji was interested in playing with a club. There was indeed, a club that met. Rather than just chess or checkers they played an array of bored games. Being a Seigaku regular, and part of the tennis club, though, was something that kept them both too busy. The club met always when they had some sort of practice. That didn't stop Tezuka and Fuji from getting into a hobby, though. They couldn't bring the bored game to school, those types of things weren't allowed. The only choice was to go back to either Fuji or Tezuka's house, which they now did twice a week after school. They'd play checkers for a while and would soon study and do homework together. When it got to late they would head in their respective directions.

It was that on this particular night, Fuji really realized that he had a hopeless friendship built with Tezuka. Here he was, absolutely infatuated and obsessed with Tezuka, somebody who, in his opinion, was somebody who he frankly could never have the hope of being with. This wasn't being morbid; rather, he was just stating the truth. He wasn't the one who Tezuka would ever share any sort of private moment with Tezuka. He'd been the one to hear his thoughts on girls, though. Tezuka never dated, took initiative, or showed anything other than a casual interest, but it showed Fuji something. If Tezuka were to start dating when they started high school, it wouldn't have surprised Fuji, even though the stoic captain would probably be very private about such a matter. Such a relationship would never be very public when it was with Tezuka.

It was raining once again. Fuji turned his eyes to the sky. The rain seemed peaceful and full of lament even though it slammed down to the ground with force. They were third years now, meaning that this would be their last time at Seigaku. They would not be attending here next coming school term. Fuji isn't sure of what High school that Tezuka is planning on attending or if he's been accepted to anything yet. Fuji doesn't dare ask, either, for some unforeseen taboo is holding him back. His lips were pressing together in a frown, and briefly, he rested his fingers on the tennis racquet. _You can't forget him because you're too weak, Shuusuke. He controls you in every single aspect, and you know that there's nothing you can do or say that will disprove it._ The thoughts make Fuji fill with an unknown, bitter emotion. On the empty, desolate landscape, his hand clenches his racquet tighter. Everybody else is headed for home by now. Even Tezuka, the one who was probably most involved at school, is probably off-campus by now.

Really, what he needed was to forget; he needed to forget everything and everyone, including Tezuka.

Therefore, he decided that his studies would be able to wait for just an hour or so, just so that he would be able to vent his emotions. If worst came to worst, he would stay up later that night in order to make up for the time he lost. Rather than go anywhere else or take a chance by relaxing at home, he kept a tight grip on his tennis racquet and retrieved a tennis ball. There's nobody on the courts, and Fuji finds precious little to practice there, so he retreated to the side of the school building most devoid of windows and idly bounced the ball against the wall. That's the way many people practiced serves and techniques when alone, but this time, Fuji was distracted and wasn't doing very well at all. Whenever Fuji tried to do something, he realized that his grip or accuracy was beginning to grow sloppily. So, he would hit it with force, sometimes it would bounce off in another direction, and he'd have to go retrieve it. There was so much pent up frustration that was tearing itself at Fuji's mind that the was prepared to hit the tennis ball as hard as humanly possible.

_You're lonely, and you're sad_.

Now Fuji's frown grew deeper at the thought of his own thoughts. He hit the tennis ball against the wall evenly a few times, but with these emotions, it's hard to keep it going straight anymore. His expression slowly changed into a slight grimace, showing anger. With all his strength, he slammed the ball against the wall, exhaling harshly. Each time he did this he needed to move farther and farther away from the wall to be able to hit it, and each time it rebounded, the force seemed impossibly greater. Finally, Fuji must've hit it too hard, because the tennis ball went off in a completely different direction, rolling off somewhere in the general direction of the tennis courts. As soon as the racquet drops idly to his side, his arms begin to ache, because he was using so much force. Now the tennis ball will probably be all worn out from Fuji hitting it so hard. That only deepens his frown.

_You need him. _

This time Fuji's eyes are wide open, the blue seeming oddly clairvoyant against the gray sky and hammering rain. He may have looked cold before on the tennis courts, but this has to be his angriest look by far. No! He shouldn't have to rely on anybody. He was his own person, and that was the way life went. Something inside was laughing at him. The part laughed _because_ he was so pathetic.

Clenching his fists, he goes off to find follows the direction of the missing tennis ball in an almost obedient manner. With silence plaguing him, he follows a path over to the tennis courts, following some invisible trail with his eyes fixated on the ground, searching for it. It was dark, but among the pouring rain, the yellow of a tennis ball should've stood out easily among the landscape. Then again, his eyes are getting rather unfocused, and he blinks a few times in order to regain some of the vision that is slipping from him. Abruptly, his eyes meet a pair of shoes. Who would be here so late at night? Fuji thought that even Tezuka had left. Then, how was anyone here? Fuji shouldn't have even been here, but he didn't think that he'd actually meet somebody. Maybe it was a school employee or something, telling him to get off campus and go home.

"Why the face?" an unfamiliar voice asked. Fuji was overcome with a sort of disappointment, because it wasn't Tezuka. This strange voice was deep, and heavily accented. Even within the first sentence alone, it became apparent that this man wasn't very familiar at all with the Japanese language. In one question alone, he'd made a good few mistakes, making Fuji squint slightly when it came to comprehending him. Fuji got lost in the voice for a moment, and as he felt sanity slip through his fingers, he had to grit his teeth and tighten his grip on the tennis racquet. Somehow, he manages to look up. Maybe he was still expecting that this would turn out to be Tezuka, playing some sort of trick. It isn't, and he's highly disappointed. The unspoken phrase travels through the air without words or gestures. _You aren't Tezuka._

The boy, or man who was standing before him was obviously a foreigner, at least by the looks of things. Tezuka had always been tall, but the stranger would've been at least a head taller than Tezuka, making it so that he was practically casting a shadow over Fuji. Fuji would've gawked at that alone, even though it was quite intimidating. His eyes were dark, lighthearted, yet carrying some odd sort of emotion. His hair was light and varying slightly in color. Overall, the man was very nice to look at. He was handsome, tall, and slim, clad modestly in a t-shirt and jeans. His deep accent told Fuji he was a foreigner, perhaps an exchange student or a new teacher coming to check out the school grounds. Why so late, though?

"Who are you?" was what Fuji asked, his voice dangerously cool. The man arched an eyebrow at him, which posed an unspoken question asking why Fuji was being so rude. The answer should have been obvious, or at least, that's what Fuji thought. The man had been rude first. If he hadn't expected that rudeness, then he needed to stop butting into the business of complete strangers and leave Fuji alone.

"Really, now, my name doesn't matter, Shuusuke." He said, in a rather pensive voice. It took a moment for the fact that the man had used his first name to really hit him hard. Seeing as this man looked at least a little older than him, he should've known better, even if he was a foreigner. His manner of speaking was so rude, and it annoyed Fuji so much. If he was planning on coming to Japan, then why didn't he learn Japanese better, so that he'd get along with the locals? Was there something that he'd forgotten, like the vital fact that the man was some old friend that he couldn't remember? Fuji doubted it.

So, in an almost desperate manner, he searched his mind for the man, anything, a name or a face. Fuji, however, can't recall anything about him. He has no memory of the man.

When the man took a step forward, his fingers made light contact against the skin of Fuji's cheek. Never before had Fuji felt so cornered. Usually, he was the one to be doing the cornering. How had this suddenly reversed? He tried to take a step back, but his feet were literally frozen in place. His grip on the tennis racquet loosened and slipped. The sound of the object hitting the ground sounded dissonant against the pouring rain, and the angry, somehow self-assured look is beginning to slip into one of misery and fear. Fuji does his best to restrain it, but fails miserably. Why? All the pain he'd ever felt from having to smile around Tezuka, and having to hold back such misery was slowly coming back to him. There were haunting memories of him with Tezuka, and the loneliness he felt, creeping up on him slowly but surely. Squeezing his eyes shut, Fuji gave a muffled whimper, something he hadn't done in years. The man hadn't done anything to harm him in any way…

Then, if he hadn't, why was it so painful? It felt as if his heart had been ripped apart.

"Leave me alone," Fuji said, with his voice shaking slightly. Perhaps it was a poor attempt at warding the man off, though he was trying to put up a strong front. Here this man was, being difficult when Fuji was at his weakest. It made Fuji very frustrated, and his left fist clenched tightly. "Get away from me!" His voice shook even more, and the man doesn't seem very much intimidated by it. Then again, he was so tall, precious little probably intimidated him. His fingers grip the air in search of his tennis racquet, but Fuji, seeming to have lost his wits about him, forgets that the racquet has fallen to the ground.

"Go home, " he ordered in a pressing voice. "Shuusuke, your family is probably worried sick about you." Fuji's teeth clenched. The nerve of that man! He had no right to order anybody around, much less, a complete stranger. Was he egotistical? A weaker part of him said that the man was just trying to help and was concerned for his safety, but in his angered, weakened state, that voice wasn't loud enough to rule everything out. The man took another step closer to him, and Fuji shuttered under his touch, with was light, yet unbearable at the same time.

"Go away!" Fuji made his final protest, but it didn't seem to work at all, leaving Fuji more and more frustrated. With a sort of numbness, he was aware of fingers gripping his chin, in a gentle, yet firm gesture. Fuji saw a flash those dark eyes before he felt the sudden surprise of the feeling of cool lips upon his. Somehow, Fuji never had the strength or the willpower to push him away, though the touch from the man still left him trembling.

With that, the light-haired, dark-eyed stranger pulled away, leaving Fuji frozen and unblinking. For a moment, he took a step back, maybe in order to give Fuji some much-needed space. Fuji trembled, and only realized that tears were falling from his eyes when he put his hand up to his cheek and slowly realized that the wet, cold rain wasn't the only thing running down his cheek. Letting his head hang low, he bit his lip, as if ashamed, as if he thought that somehow, through these tears, he was defeated.

He was scrutinizing Fuji in the oddest way possible. Though appearing pretty calm, he seemed slightly troubled, and though Fuji had dropped his tennis racquet, it seemed as if he was expecting that the prodigy, after the unwelcome display of affection, would pick it back up and hit the stranger upside the head with all his strength. Slowly, Fuji bent over to pick the racquet up; however, despite the man's predictions, all he really seemed to do was keep it close to him, as if it were some sort of treasure. Biting his lip stubbornly, his eyes narrowed slightly, the ice blue cutting through the dim, gray atmosphere. "Why are you telling me what to do? This is none of your business." His voice was icy in nature; enough to send shivers down anybody's spine.

"You're going to make yourself sick," the man told him calmly, leaning in for a moment to brush aside sopping bangs and plant a soft kiss on the trembling forehead. "Spare your mother the worry. Go home, now." His voice pressed in a gentle order, but Fuji still wasn't ready to listen. Somehow, when he tried to protest, his voice always ended up caught in his throat.

In the blink of an eye, the stranger was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

So it's been really long since I was able to write a chaptered story. I don't particularly like this, but it will do.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Prince of Tennis, okay? Anything other than the plot isn't mine. The will to write this and the plot are mine. The characters, for the most part, are not mine. Is Mr. Stranger really a character? Your choice.

EDITED 22 MAY, 2007

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**To Sedate—Chapter 2**

That night, Fuji came home soaking wet, shivering slightly and dripping when he came in. It wasn't too late, but later than his mother usually expected, and enough to make her worry greatly. There was no set curfew for him, though he knew that he'd probably come home to anger; he'd missed dinner. Yuuta had already finished his homework for the day and was enjoying a tennis magazine in the living room. Although he didn't want to show it, Yuuta was at least _slightly _concerned for being late. Sure, Yuuta detested the fact that even after he'd left Seishun Gakuen, it still seemed that he was living just shy of his brother's shadow. They were brothers, though, and family bonds came in at some place, even with Yuuta's anger firmly in place. That wasn't anything as compared to his mother's reaction, somebody who cared first and foremost about her son rather than about stepping outside of his shadow.

"Do you know how much you worried me?" It was a question, but in form of exclamation. The kind voice of the women was touched unusually with anger. No, she wasn't furious. More so, she was relieved to see him. Who, though, wouldn't have expected her to be angry? Her son, a prodigy, a genius, and someone who always did the right thing in her eyes, had stayed out very late without explanation or excuse. That wasn't like her son to do. Now that anger and disbelief showed. Slightly concerned, Yumiko stood off to the side. She said nothing because it wasn't her business to butt in on. Even through that, Fuji could tell she was equally as worried, though she was displaying that worry in a different manner, with a little less panic.

"I'm sorry, Mother… " His voice trailed off. "I was distracted at tennis practice so I decided to stay afterwards and practice a little more. I was so caught up that I lost track of time." This was actually true. In all respect, Fuji didn't like having to lie to his family. More and more often, he'd been zoning off. His mother wanted to know why. Whenever she approached him she always got the same response. It's fine; nothing's wrong. Now she began to wonder if he wonderful prodigy was getting involved with the wrong crowd. That was very wrong, and she knew it. No matter what went wrong in Fuji's life, he couldn't get involved in something in such a short span of time. At least, that was what she though. She'd seen, over the course of three months, him go from his normal self to somebody who daydreamed often and seemed very sad about something. Fuji didn't seem to notice the change he had underwent, really.

"But it was pouring rain outside! Why exactly did you do that? Just because it's springtime doesn't mean you should be standing out in the freezing cold rain in shorts and a t-shirt because you weren't able to focus at your tennis practice! Give yourself a break, Shuusuke. Everyone's distracted sometimes. Don't drive yourself to the brink of hypothermia because you were drifting off. It's unlike you! You know very well spring isn't always warm, especially at this time of year." This was a rant that his parent was entitled to. Fuji jus bit his lip and sighed. He'd have to take it. He understood the real message.

_You're not the Shuusuke I know. What happened? How can I get my Shuusuke back?_

"I wasn't thinking." He replied emptily. Even she knew it was a lie. No matter what, Shuusuke always thought about things. This was, however, a sign that he was serious. He wanted to fight his own battles, not currently have his family trying to interfere. This wasn't a simple tennis game where Fuji could just smile and have fun, playing with the results of the game. This was a battle even more challenging than his one with Tezuka. This one, he was intent on not losing. "I promise, it'll never happen again."

She was swollen from anger, and briefly looked as if she would explode from it. Something, though, struck her about her son's appearance. He was dripping wet and had tired shadows under his eyes. As if exhausted by some strong force, he looked to be in desperate need of sleep. That, and he was dripping wet. With her instincts beginning to kick in, she, as a mother, worried about the possibility of him having a cold in the morning if he didn't change out of the sopping, wet clothes. He'd be ill in bed with a cough if he wasn't taken care of. Sighing, she finally decided that a lecture could wait until tomorrow. After all, Fuji didn't do something wrong every day, so it wasn't like it was a recurring problem. "Very well." He voice was strained in exhaustion while she went to retrieve a towel for him, looking him straight in the eyes. "Shuusuke, I want you to leave your jacket and pants here so that you won't drip on the floor. Leave your t-shirt and underwear if they're too wet, as well. We'll discuss this in the morning. All I want you to do is finish everything you need to do so that you can get into bed as soon as possible. You look like you need a lot of sleep."

He bows politely. "Yes, mother." His voice sounds full of regret, but it's hard to tell if it's just one of those masks of his. In all actuality, he's going to study instead. It doesn't matter to him. He'll follow his mother's instructions. He did, however, promise himself he'd study more when he got home to make up for the time he'd spent messing around at school. The memory of the stranger lingered, and as soon as Yumiko and his mother had left the room, he let a hand absently drift up to his lips. They still tingled slightly.

Yumiko gave him a shock by appearing in his room in the middle of this study session.

"I thought you told Mother you'd be in bed as soon as possible." She was an older sister, with much more experience in life than Fuji had. She knew how to keep his secrets, but she also knew when it became important that she tell their mother about it in concern of Fuji's well being.

"I did promise that. My studies are a very necessary thing. Mother would be disappointed if I were to fall behind."

"She'll be more disappointed if you make yourself ill in the attempt. You aren't a superhuman, even if they call yourself a prodigy. Mother's right. You need to give yourself a little of a break. Nobody's perfect."

Fuji wasn't asking to be perfect, though, was he?

"It was my fault I was late. I should at least study a little."

"No, brother. Sleep, or I'll tell mother. Your studying can wait until tomorrow afternoon. If I may recall, you don't have practice after school right?" She insisted.

"Well, we have a practice before school. That and Tezuka and I were planning to-"

"Whatever you're planning to do, I'm sure that you'll have time to study tomorrow. There's no use running yourself down to the point where you're going to fall asleep in school. Sleep now. I'm serious about telling mother about this. Spare her the worry, Shuusuke. She doesn't like to see you like this, and neither do I. She only wants what's best for you." Her voice cut through his, though the interruption was oddly polite.

Sighing, Fuji closed his workbook. Right now, he wanted to continue, but if it was Yumiko's request for him to stop for the night, then he would.

"Very well." He straightened in his seat, and Yumiko, seeming satisfied with what she had just done, headed in the direction of the door.

"Sis?" His question stopped Yumiko in her tracks, making her look back at him as he put his notes away into his schoolbag. "Thanks… for everything. This sort of thankfulness was foreign to him, but he felt that it would be proper. Smiling, she winked at him as she headed in the direction of her room without much else to say. Fuji sighed and closed his eyes.

"Hey, I'll give you a ride to school tomorrow, if you want me to." That was her last offer before she disappeared behind her own door. Fuji smiled slightly, closing his textbook. For at least that one moment, his thoughts were off Tezuka. Now, it was up in the air as to weather or not his dreams would be peaceful and Tezuka-free. With a shiver, he hoped secretly to himself that he wouldn't dream of the mysterious stranger that he'd met that night. The man was so creepy that he didn't want to see him again.

There's a gnome on the tennis courts. At least, that was how Eiji seemed to like to refer to the strange occurrence of the missing tennis balls.

None of the Seigaku regulars knew what exactly to say about it. What was it about gnomes on the tennis court? Weren't gnomes those cute little elves with pointy hats that women fancied to put on their lawns? Obviously, that must not have been the case. Somehow, a gnome had escaped from whatever lawn on which it had been placed and now was causing a lot of chaos for the Seigaku tennis club. Tezuka, the captain, didn't believe in the silly theory. He was too calm to worry about such nonsense. Within his mind, a couple of first years thought that it was entertaining to steal tennis balls and blame it on a lawn (or garden) gnome. Eiji didn't help it; he only encouraged it. The third year had always acted quite like a child at times.

Tezuka gave everyone a cool look. "Somebody has been stealing tennis balls lately." Tezuka was so serious, that it might have even been funny. The rest of the tennis club looked upon their captain with their backs stiff, their shoulders back, and their gazes even. Only the first years really had the bravery to fidget just a little. "If the person who has been doing so would please step forward…" There was nothing but silence. Students glanced around nervously, but nobody made the movement to come forward. Ryuuzaki-sensei looked annoyed, and Tezuka shook his head.

"Thirty laps, everyone!" There was a universal grown for regulars and non-regulars alike. The message Tezuka had been meaning to get across was conveyed. _Whoever is doing this who thinks it is funny is just dragging the tennis club down with them._ People who knew Tezuka better decided that they needed to start running before Tezuka decides to add on more laps to this order. However, that knowledge didn't stop a fresh wave of complaints.

Tezuka watched as they ran the first fifteen laps, but joined Fuji and Oishi for the last half, accompanying them wordlessly. It was more than his usual orders, but the first years had been making such a commotion about the disappearance of all the tennis balls that Tezuka had to take action. He had to show everyone that they needed to keep in line. Tezuka knew that Oishi, at least, shouldn't have been running the laps, but Tezuka couldn't exclude anyone because he trusted them. Showing favor like that wouldn't have been a good idea. Seeming to have taken slight mercy, he ran the last lap as well. Everyone was out of breath, but the culprit hadn't come forward.

Eiji, for a fraction of a second, looked as if he was going to comment on the gnomes again, but was too tired from the previous laps to be ordered to run any more. Now, the boy would just rather go back to practice. For once, Eiji restrained himself from saying a joke and bit his tongue. "Ne, Fujiko! Waving over to Fuji, he beckoned the boy over. "Do you want to practice together if it's okay with Tezuka-buchou?" Fuji might have faltered for a minute, but finally, he nodded.

Sometimes it was hard to look Tezuka in the eye, yet sometimes, it was hard to not stare straight at Tezuka. Naturally, his eyes seemed to be drawn to the captain. He seemed to do it so much that he was surprised that nobody had discovered him doing it yet. From over in the shadows, his eyes caught something, a person. It was a little odd since everyone had to avoid stepping in puddles from last night's storm, even at practice. The courts had yet to dry. There was a man watching him, with his eyes fixated on him as he practiced. Unwillingly, his eyes flickered back to him. The stare made him uneasy. If Tezuka were to ever catch Fuji staring, maybe that was how he would feel. He was throwing a tennis ball in the air. For a brief moment, Fuji wondered about where he got it. Rather than hitting the tennis ball, he plucked it from the air. A look of confusion came onto Eiji's face.

"Wait a minute, Eiji" Fuji set down the tennis ball and exited the courts to go see the man who had been bothering him last night on the risk of being ordered to do laps for not staying focused.

"What are you doing?" He questioned, staring at the stranger. He was tossing the ball up and down, and Fuji wondered where exactly that he had found the tennis ball. Tilting his head to the side slightly, and odd sort of silence passed before he gave a slightly disjointed answer, pensive in tone and nature.

"I was watching you practice." He answered, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong now, or are you going to keep being stubborn about it?" Up. Down. Up. Down. Fuji wonders where exactly Tenshi got the tennis ball. He seemed to read Fuji's mind at the moment. "Do you want this back?" he said in a casual tone, motioning towards the yellow ball. "You left it here last night. I thought that it would've been a shame to just leave it here." He continued to throw the ball up in the air. _But… but he was the one to vanish first. Unless he took it with him, there had been no possible way that he could've known that Fuji left it._ Shaking his head, Fuji gave a negative response. Pausing for a moment, he smiled a large, almost cat-like smile. "That's great! I can keep it, then?" Fuji nods slightly. The man's eyes lightened a shade, to a bright green, only for a moment. Fuji wondered how it was possible, and then why nobody else had come over to see the stranger that he was talking to. Maybe they were too caught up within their practice to notice the man speaking, though he was speaking quite loudly and with a very odd accent.

Fuji turns to leave, when Tezuka's voice rings out to him. "Fuji, what are you doing?" The stranger suddenly vanishes. There's only thin air behind him, and Tezuka gives him a suspicious look.

"Didn't you see him?" His voice trails off slightly, the sound decaying within the wind. The manner in which he speaks is that of an indignant child, who was trying desperately to prove to his parents that something had happened. Tezuka stiffened at it. Obviously, Tezuka had never seen the man that Fuji claimed to have seen and talked to. With his eyes narrowed slightly, his concern grows, though only very subtly evident within his next question. The tone changes only a little. After all, it would be bad of him, as captain if he didn't notice that one of the regulars had been acting strangely for the past few days. That, and it worried him how distracted Fuji had been when Kikumaru scored against him yesterday.

"Fuji, are you sick. If you aren't going to pay attention during practice, then you should go home and get some rest." Tezuka's voice was stern, ordering him to go home. Fuji didn't really want to, though, and he wasn't about ready to let Tezuka know that he really wasn't feeling well, even though it was kind of Tezuka to show some sort of worry.

_I'm not sick… I just want you so badly, Tezuka. If I were to reach out and touch you, would you allow it?_

Tezuka was oblivious to all of his thoughts, and Fuji couldn't blame him, because he wouldn't have expected that Tezuka be really so skilled that he was a mind reader. All he could witness were Fuji's natural gestures, his aura, his normal smile, and his words. When it came to analyzing a person, it could've been a lot, yet the information was precious little, so much that he couldn't tell anything of importance. However, his odd behavior wasn't helping in the slightest. It made Tezuka raise an eyebrow slightly, when nobody was looking, of course. Adjusting his glasses ever so slightly, Tezuka had to wait for an answer. The tension between them was building, and Fuji felt that Tezuka would order laps if he didn't get the answer he wanted. Really, Tezuka is only doing his duties as captain by making sure that he acts in the best interest of the tennis club. Tezuka isn't at all inhuman or uncaring, but he isn't skilled like some other people are at showing his emotions on the scale that Fuji is able to. Because of that, people always misunderstood it. Perhaps because Fuji was able to mask his emotions as well, he saw past that side of Tezuka. That was how he fell so deeply for the ever-mysterious boy.

"No, I'm fine. Really, Tezuka, you've been so odd, lately. I should be asking you if you're alright." The answer was simple enough, but Tezuka gave a stern frown and didn't seem at all satisfied with his answer. Still, he failed to mention that it had bothered him, and continued on as if nothing had happened.

"Very well, then." He replied. Tezuka's eyes shifted casually back towards the tennis courts. "Kikumaru would like to keep practicing with you." Fuji could only nod, smile, and then follow at Tezuka's heels as they went back to the tennis courts. Maybe Eiji was right about the gnomes, for once. Maybe that strange man was a gnome, not just the ones that had the stereotypical form of an elf. At least the man hadn't kissed him this time, Fuji was thankful for that. That, or maybe Tezuka was right; maybe he really was falling ill and beginning to hallucinate things. Fuji told himself that people didn't disappear into thin air. They couldn't. Yet, somehow, it was obvious that man had really been there, even though Tezuka hadn't been able to see him. Perhaps it was just some trick that the regulars were pulling on him. For the sake of his sanity, Fuji hoped that was true, and soon enough, the trick would be unmasked. In a few days, they would be laughing about this whole ordeal. At least… that's what Fuji wanted to think.

It was getting to be time for class, and Fuji didn't want to be late. Smiling over towards Tezuka and the other regulars, he turns to leave, bidding his farewell as Tezuka stays back to watch all the members of the tennis club as they go off in each of their respective directions. "Have a nice day, Tezuka!" The cheerful voice drifts across the air on a strong note, but Fuji's ears seem to only catch it as some sort of pathetic whimper. It seemed only to be as if by coincidence that their hands just happened to brush together, though only for a fraction of a second. Tezuka remained causal, pulling his hand away from Fuji's quickly. With his gaze lowered slightly, an odd smile growing on his face, and his heart drumming weakly against his chest, he lifts his gaze in an almost proud sort of matter, even though he was feeling so weak. Fuji had long since gotten used to the light-headed feeling that went through his head on a daily basis now. In a way, it felt surreal, though it bothered him on so many levels. When he felt that way, he never felt as if he was quite alive anymore. Everything would go numb, and his vision would fade into black and white as if it were only a distant memory.

"Things aren't going well with you and Tezuka, are they?" The voice shocked Fuji, and he spun around to face the strange man. He didn't think much before he was ready to fire back with a defensive statement. This man was invading upon both his personal space and privacy; he shouldn't have been there. Despite the fact that Fuji is glaring daggers at someone who speaks very obviously as a foreigner would, the stranger never seemed to notice. Briefly, he wondered why nobody seemed to turn their head once to stare at the strange-talking, odd-looking foreigner. Maybe he was some sort creepy hallucination.

"I'm going to class," Fuji stated simply, giving a cool glare back in the man's direction. "You know, unless you want the teachers suspecting things, it isn't good for somebody like you to be around the school grounds, at least during school hours." His smile at that moment was oddly sickening. Surely, the man would know the consequences of his actions. "That is," he paused. "That is, unless you have business here." At that, he raised an eyebrow as if to indicate some sort of underlying question. The man didn't answer. Maybe that was good; that meant that if this person was indeed a hallucination, then he wasn't going crazy by having the hallucination answer back. Lips brush lightly past his ear, and at the answer the man gives, Fuji is almost sure that this strange man, this creepy stalker, is telepathic at least to some extent.

"Don't think that I'm a hallucination, Shuusuke, because I'm not." Fuji shivered at the use of his name, and thought about how much he really disliked the strange man for the fact that he used that given name so casually. Yet, it was so eerie how the man seemed to be able to read his mind, he couldn't help but get annoyed by it. Fuji didn't like the things that he wasn't able to understand. "It's better that you come to accept it," the man stated calmly, in a soft voice. Fuji turned his head in question, wondering what exactly the man meant by this. "There _are _some things in life that will always be too difficult for you to comprehend, at least for the time being. Don't get knowledge mixed up with intelligence." Within a second or two after saying that, the stranger had vanished again into thin air, much like a mirage. Fuji growled under his breath as a result. Surely, he must be getting sick, because Fuji knew that he was going crazy.

On the fringes of his vision, the world was growing dark. What was it that he felt so dizzy? Fuji didn't know the exact answer, but he soon resolved that being a dedicated student, it wouldn't hurt to fall asleep on his desk just once. Maybe he would get detention after school, and have to out in the hall to await a long lecture, but he really needed some sleep. There was a problem, however. Fuji could detect that simple fact, because usually, he would never in his right mind think of getting in trouble during school so deliberately.

Really, though, he was so extremely tired, in truth.

Maybe he should've slept more last night. Obviously, Yumiko had been right in the fact that the late night studying would soon take a toll on his health. Vaguely, he was aware of the feeling of collapsing to his knees, feeling dizzy and slightly feverish. A few people around him, walking peacefully in the hallway, turned in surprise at the sudden sound of Fuji collapsing to his knees, weakly. Fuji wasn't aware of anything else, except impending darkness. Soon after he'd fallen from his knees, and was completely on the ground, his eyes closed the minute after he hit the ground.

Even though it was a sunny spring day outside, Fuji was almost absolutely sure that he could hear the constant pounding of the rain, echoing through his ears and making him wince. His breathing was choppy, and the darkness was frightening. The one thing that remained constant was the patter of water on the ground, and his breathing, though quite shaky.

Tezuka… 

Darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

Here we are, to update with Chapter 3

EDITED 29 MAY 2007

Chapter 12 will be poster early this week.

ANYWAYS, I'm not very proud of this chapter at all. In fact, I don't really like this story. Please review.

Disclaimer: All disclaimers apply to their respective copyright holders. I am only borrowing the Tennis no Ohjisama/Prince of Tennis characters for a while. For now, that are credited to me are original characters not a part of the cannon Tenipuri cast and the plot. Anything that makes for a plot hole, grammar mistake, or anything else should be mentioned to me. If there's something in here (other than the fact that it's yaoi) that you many find offensive, ask me to remove it and I will if the situation calls enough for it. As I would never use somebody else's original characters in fanfiction without permission, I ask that you don't use my characters without my permission. People should make up their own characters if they really need it. Where's the creativity if not?

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**To Sedate-Chapter 3**

Later, Fuji woke up in the infirmary. When he squinted, whips of conscious memories went by his view, but it was nothing that he grasped. Handsome, light-colored eyes flashed suddenly through his field of vision, causing him to yelp. Fuji scooted far against the headboard of the infirmary bed. The loud thump that he made against the wall was enough to attract the attention of the school nurse. She was one of those stereotypical kind women, yet quite stern at the same time. With another flash, the eyes were gone, and the stranger had disappeared far too soon to draw the attention of the nurse any further. In a way, it was almost doing like a hallucination would. Somewhere deep within his mind, he was praising the woman for breaking him out of the spell he'd fallen into.

"Fuji Shuusuke." She stated in a distant, yet business-like tone. In her hands, she held paperwork, and her eyes were fixated on it. "You've been unconscious for an hour or so. Your parents are worried, you know?" She took a seat in the empty chair next to him in order to get a better look at him while twiddling her fingers, as if something about him made her nervous. "You collapsed when you were going back to class. Is there anything that might have caused this that you'd like to tell me?" Her voice was slightly suspicious. "Is there anything that you have been doing that you shouldn't have been?" Fuji wasn't concerned about her questions. She told him that she'd spoken with his parents. Through his closed eyes and behind his smile, he was worried. Out of nervousness, he began to play with the corner of the bed sheet. Had she spoken whit his father as well, who worked overseas?

"I just phoned your mother to ask if you were ill or anything, Fuji-kun. I wanted to know if you had recently developed a medical condition that wasn't stated in your record. Don't worry; I just wanted to make sure of some things. Still, I would appreciate if you could tell me if you might have gotten yourself into any sort of trouble. No matter what, I'm here to help you, but I can only do that if you're willing to work with me. Please, try not to be stubborn." Fuji didn't like her tone of voice, and he did his best not to frown.

"It's nothing, really." Fuji said, his voice echoing across the empty room. There really was nobody here. Maybe he could talk for a while.

"It's nothing, really." That was his casual answer. Fuji's voice echoed across the empty room. There really wasn't anybody here, was there? Maybe he could talk for a while. No, he must have been crazy.

_Maybe I can get out what's been bothering me. Really, I wouldn't know how to, though. I don't even know what exactly is bothering me. _"Really, it's nothing," He answered in a confident voice. "There's been a lot going on. That's all. Emotionally, I'm fine. I have absolutely no idea why I may have collapsed. Maybe I'm just coming down with a minor illness." The suggestion was casual, and truthful in a way. Fuji hoed that the women would buy it and leave him alone. After a few moments of silence, it seemed that she hadn't. Fuji hesitated and continued.

"Okay, maybe I haven't been sleeping as much as I should. I'm just a little stressed, I suppose. It's getting near the end of the school year, so I have to try hard and get into a good high school." This might have been more convincing. Stress was completely normal, and Fuji was a good student, not one that slacked. Stress was a normal thing to see in students whenever they were approaching an important event. As if to try and believe it as well, he pressed a hand to his own forehead and bowed his head so that she wouldn't be able to see his small frown of frustration. This act, all fake, was a very good case of pretend. Partially, it was also a way to try and believe it himself, as well as make the nurse have some confidence in his answers. It looked believable. A breeze touched his cheek, and his gaze was drawn towards an open window.

_Fuji had always loved the warm spring weather. Now wasn't an exception._

The sakura trees would be in bloom soon enough. Fuji wondered distantly if Tezuka would be going to the sakura festival, or any sort of spring festival. Maybe he would try and ask him, later. If Tezuka hadn't planned on going with anyone, he would invite him. He would need to get out the courage to ask him soon. "Na, it's really nice outside as of late, right?" He'd tried his best to avoid any more of her questions. The nurse simply nodded and scribbled something on his paperwork.

"Do you like the springtime, Fuji-kun?" Her question was going slightly beyond the simple subject of his help. Fuji didn't mind so much, he guessed. Her casual tone helped him talk for a while, and she wasn't pressing him to say anything that he didn't want to say. That made him feel less cornered, and slowly, he was returning to his normal self.

"I suppose. I like the spring rain, too. It's refreshing." This time he was too busy to notice that she was writing more things on the paperwork in her lap, much like a psychologist would. Fuji was too zoned off to even think of it. Otherwise, he would've known better. Birds tweeted outside. It was a sign of new life.

"Fuji-kun, what I really want to ask you about is your general health. Have you been sick lately? How much stress have you been feeling? Why? Have you collapsed like this before? What I really want to know, I guess, is if you've seen a doctor yet for this." It was all in a wave of questions that made his head spin. It took him a moment to process it all.

"I don't think I've been sick…" He hesitated at this, remembering how sick he felt after the rainstorm last night. His mother had been horrified at his staying out late. In fact, he was lucky that he wasn't grounded. "It's just normal, I think. There's been a lot of schoolwork with the tennis club and all."

"So you're on the tennis club? Are you a regular?" she interrupted.

"Yeah, I am."

Afterwards, she seemed to expect that he would answer all of her questions in an orderly fashion. Brushing the white sheets out before him with pale fingers, he sighed and continued. "No, I haven't collapsed before. It was like… all the energy was drained out of my body, and _I fell._ I can't remember much of it." People collapsed at times from stress, so it wasn't like this never happened. "Why would I see a doctor? I'm not sick." Somebody could interpret that phrase as incredulous denial. Fuji didn't like to think that he was sick. After all, if it did turn out that he was ill, it might mean he'd have to take time off of tennis. Fuji didn't want that.

:"Just wondering, Fuji-kun. I just want to make sure there isn't an underlying problem that I've overlooked. Just because you collapsed doesn't mean it should be overlooked as a problem pertaining to stress."

_Underlying problem. _Fuji winced visibly.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all."

"Very well. Can you walk, Fuji-kun?"

Thinking he was being sent to class, Fuji nodded and pushed his legs over the edge of the bed as a demonstration. "Yeah. I can walk just fine." His legs ached and felt slightly weak when he stood. Surely, that next spring breeze would be strong enough to knock him right over! Though his knees shook slightly, he managed to stay on his feet without wobbling very badly. Instead, she was scribbling on a green sheet of paper, something that Fuji vaguely remembered it to be one of those green paper hall passes. When she handed it to him, he squinted it slightly, not understanding if he was reading the characters right.

Fuji Shuusuke 

_07 April 11.00 AM_

_Infirmary to office of Suzuki-sensei_

Below was the nurses' short signature, spelled out in fancy-looking hiragana.

Nakamura Michiko 

Wait… Wasn't Suzuki-sensei the school therapist? Why did he need to go to the therapist's office? He was completely fine! This nurse was out of her mind! "Nakamura-sensei?" His voice went slightly high-pitched for a moment. Fuji didn't want to have to go to the shrink's office. He just wanted to go back to class, for goodness, sake!

"Your mother and sister are a little concerned about you, it seems. I don't really do well at talking personally to students, so I just want you to visit the school counselor. It's nothing big. She'd just like to have a word with you. Please, Fuji-kun. People are worried about you. Don't worry about it; if there isn't anything going on, then you shouldn't have a problem talking to her. Suzuki-sensei is a really kind person."

Fuji blinked, but nodded. "Yes, Nakamura-sensei. Thank you very much for everything you've done."

"Fuji-kun," she reminded him, her hands twisting together as if nervous. She bit her lip and looked out the window. "You're a kind young man. Please accept help when it comes; you aren't alone. Staying in silence will only end up hurting you." She set the papers on her desk and turned towards him. "What I'm trying to say is that there will always be help if you need it. If you don't feel comfortable talking to Suzuki-sensei, then come to me or talk to your mother. Don't act like there isn't anyone who could help you out of whatever you get into."

_Tezuka manages it alone. That is, if he feels pain._

"Thank you very much, Suzuki-sensei." He repeated it again just so that she would get it through her head. In fact, he added a smile just to make it more convincing. "Goodbye." His voice was eerily pleasant.

The school was very well lit at this time of day. While walking through the upper floors he looked down at the tennis courts on the school grounds. The school was serenely quiet, which was something he always liked about school. Budding trees were speckled green, and he thought it to be very pretty. The school grounds had certain orderliness to them. In ways it helped Fuji stay sane.

Suzuki-sensei's office was much like those psychologist people paid much money to listen to their problems. Ironically, she seemed to be waiting for him. At least, she knew his name. "Fuji-kun?" She asked as he shuffled into her office, giving a soft smile. Hesitantly, he handed her the pass that the nurse had written him. Afterwards, she motioned for him to sit in a chair across from her computer desk.

"Is there anything you wanted to talk about?" There was no faltering from his normal tone. He was kind, even towards this woman.

"Your mother told me a lot about you on the phone, Fuji-kun." _So she spoke to you, too._ He scoffed in his brain. Had he really seemed that out of it lately that she need call the school? He felt a wave of reprehension. Maybe Yumiko had lied and really told their mother about his late-night studying. Though she was kind, she would probably think he'd get sick from it, especially after the rainstorm. "How are you, today, Fuji-kun?" Her voice was so pleasant; it wasn't very hard to relax in her presence. Though he was tense, her light, easy-going personality was getting the better of him, and he slowly he succumbed to the idea he just speak his feelings around her.

"I'm okay. A little tired, maybe." He paused. Did this not satisfy her? No, she was just looking at his in the eye intently, as if trying to find something. "What do you want me to talk about?" he asked. Of course, any student would be relatively uneasy in a closed office space like this. It made him slightly uneasy that he had to go and talk to her in the first place.

"Anything you want, Fuji-kun. Why don't you tell me about the clubs you're in? Talk about your friends, too." She didn't want to know about if there was anything wrong? Fuji was hit with a wave of confusion. Maybe he even looked a little dumbfounded, because she scrutinized his expression for a moment.

"I don't have to talk about my feelings or anything?"

"Only if you want to."

"So you only want to here about the clubs I'm in?"

"Anything about you is fine."

Fuji didn't know how long it was after that, but he and Suzuki-sensei slowly got into conversations. Time whizzed by. Fuji talked about anything and everything, about the Seigaku tennis club, about how he liked to play chess and checkers with Tezuka, about his older sister and family. Without even realizing it, he spoke a lot of his feelings, towards them all. However, he was still touchy around the subject of Tezuka, seeming as if to be in pain whenever she asked a question about him. Suzuki-sensei learned quickly to avoid them.

"So what style of tennis did you say Kikumaru-kun played?" She asked. She seemed interested, and Fuji was actually glad just to have somebody to talk to. Suzuki-sensei really wasn't that bad.

"He calls it acrobatic tennis. He's really flexible and everything, so he can do a lot of flips."

"Interesting."

Fuji nods. Suzuki-sensei glances to the clock on the wall.

"I want you to get back to class now, Fuji-kun. You've been out long enough as it is since you were in the infirmary before class even started. She wrote him another green pass and handed it to him along with a note. "Please inform your teacher that next Wednesday I also will want to meet with you again—only for a half an hour. If anything happens again, Fuji, feel free to come back and talk with me. I'll always have an open door." Fuji was feeling far more light-spirited than he had in a long time. "Now get along, it's probably just about lunchtime, and I don't want you to miss a meal. It would be unfortunate were you to collapse again." She added this on a more serious note.

It's true. By the time he's back in the classroom, he's already missed out on half of lunch, and he's extremely hungry. Maybe it's better that his teacher is nowhere in sight. Class started hours ago, so he's very late. Even with a note, he expected that his teacher would be very upset. Some of his classmates already look surprised at his return. Some didn't think he'd come to school at all. Others knew better. "What happened Fuji? I heard you collapsed!" Fuji gave them the simple answer that he'd been in the infirmary the whole time. They need not know of his trip to the counselor's office.

A pouting teacher appeared later. As Fuji presented the note to him, he sighed in exasperation and nodded. "Take your seat, Fuji-kun." Fuji nodded and went to his desk near the window, where sunlight filtered in making the desk warm to the touch. "Stand. Bow!" After that there was a shuffling of chairs as all the students took their seats. Now was mathematics, a subject that, although it wasn't his absolute favorite, had always been thrilling. Yet somehow, his thoughts were more occupied.

Tezuka looked out the window to see blue sky. Fuji had been acting strangely, and now there was word that he had collapsed. Around Seishun Gakuen, news sometimes would travel fast. He'd need to remember to have a talk with Fuji at practice when he got the chance. After all, the prodigy had been acting very strangely as of late. Despite the fact he should've had at least some insight into the situation, Tezuka was left blind.

And ever so slowly, Tezuka was becoming frightened for his friend.

Fuji seemed so distant now, and he did often seem to drift off. Tezuka could only hope to the gods above that the problem rested in physical illness, not mental illness. Even as young as he was, Tezuka knew the effects mental illness could have on a person. They were dangerous; they were a person's own downfall. What happened if Fuji went crazy and landed himself in a mental hospital?

There was a voice in his head that screamed, "If that happens, then it's all your fault, Tezuka Kunimitsu." His stomach lurched at the very though. Why in the world would it be _his _fault? He wasn't the one who controlled or influenced Fuji's thoughts in a significant way.

_If only he knew. _

Memories, though not often paid attention to, could be found things. Years went by, and memories wore dull until they were cast aside in a pile, no longer significant. Laying his chin in his palm, he rolled his eyes. Tezuka only lived with the present, not the past nor future. He loved tennis, and would work passionately to improve himself further.

What about Fuji? Fuji liked to dwell in the past and plot it all out. There was a "what if" game that Fuji liked to play, thinking over different events and thinking if the opposite would've happened. He remembered the one Fuji had told him about the day he'd gotten out of the hospital. It was something having to do with if they'd gone to different schools, wasn't it? Yeah, maybe.

Fuji's smile and laugh seemed far off, for now. And for that, Tezuka was left to frown. Buried under layers and layers, Tezuka was able to tell that there was something the matter with the prodigy. Something had caused him to skid off his original path, maybe only slightly. Now, Fuji was lost in a blizzard. Even though he was only feet from the past, the gusting wind and drifting snow prevented him from traveling back.

But if he were to guide Fuji back… 

No.

He needn't debate about this now. Turning back to his exam for History, he tried to remember the name of the radical groups significant throughout history and the significance of samurai before the cultural reforms. For once, he couldn't recall them. World History was his best subject, but today his mind seemed to be failing him. Pushing his glasses up past the bridge of his nose, he set his pen down for a moment and flexed his fingers. He shouldn't be thinking about Fuji right now… he had a test to work on right now. He could talk to Fuji any time after school or during practice; he even had the prodigy's phone number.

God, Fuji… How do you do this to me? 

Fuji was walking home, as usual. By now he'd gotten used to this person's yammering. "The foreigner," for lack of a better name, in Fuji's opinion, couldn't be anything more than a figment of his imagination. He seemed to like Fuji's tennis ball. As they walked, he'd bounce it against the curb. Fuji kept his eyes focused ahead, smiling.

"Hey-o don't you want to know my name?" the man practically jumping up and down, obviously in a good mood. After the talk with Suzuki-sensei today, Fuji had to admit that he was also in a pretty good mood. Did he want to know this person's name, though? Knowing his imagination, this strange foreigner would be named after Emperor Hirohito, or Hitler! Really, he didn't want to think of it.

"Okay. Fine. Tell me your name."

"Tenshama."

Strange name.

"Tenshama?"

"Yeah…"

His eyes looked over to Tenshama, not believing. Tenshama practically fluttered over and kissed his cheek. Fuji merely pushed him away and gave him no sort of response. This was just a figment of his imagination. Now, why exactly his figment of imagination was kissing him, he didn't know, but he was a little creeped out by it. Left foot forward, right foot forward… He counted his steps, as they got closer to home. Out of nowhere, he spoke again.

"Hey, do you have any nicknames?"

"You can call me Tenshi."

Fuji raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing.

"Sure, whatever you say, Tenshi."


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks so much for the reviews, everyone! Once, again, I probably shouldn't be here. I need to go to driving school in about twenty minutes and I promised somebody I'd write them a roleplay reply. This is more laid back, I guess, since I was pretty bored when writing this yesterday.

I will try and write proper a proper to thank all who reviewed properly. I really appreciate it.

Somehow, my computer was stupid last time and it destroyed the disclaimer when I tried to upload it. So today, I will cover both chapters in one. I don't own it, so no lawsuits, please. Praise the skies above, though. Whatever spell my computer was in, it snapped out of it. The internet works properly now.

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**To Sedate- Chapter 4**

The days pass with surprisingly little event. As life falls into it's monotonous pattern again, Fuji can't help but feel grateful for the fact he's been able to talk to Tezuka more as of late. Tezuka hadn't approached him the day after he'd collapsed, but had indeed watched when Eiji practically knocked Fuji off his feet when he ran up to him and threw his arms around the unsuspecting prodigy. Eiji had heard as well—he was worried that Fuji was really sick, so it had taken a lot of persuading on Fuji's part to finally convince him that he was okay. That day Eiji had drifted a little farther than he would normally from Oishi in order to keep a better eye on his friend.

Tezuka and Eiji weren't the only ones concerned. All the regulars eventually caught wind of Fuji collapsing. All their reactions had been different, mostly of concern. Then again, Kaidoh had just hissed upon hearing the news and went off by himself. That didn't mean it at least made the school's "Viper" at least a little concerned.

Sure, it was going to take a lot of time before things were normal with Fuji. Now he needed to regularly visit Suzuki-sensei. She only asked for a half an hour every other week, but it still could sometimes be taxing on Fuji. Somehow, it seemed like the day and Fuji's mood that affected the outcome of their sessions. Sometimes Fuji could leave her office hating the women, and other times they just talked. His mother eventually quieted down about it—she had just been worried, after all.

It was one particular day at practice that really sparked interest in Fuji among all the boredom.

"Why… you!"

Momoshiro shook his fist. Kaidoh, in turn, gave a loud hiss that made all the freshmen within the vicinity jump back a ways. Momoshiro and Kaidoh were at it again, breathing down each other's necks. None of the regulars really tried to get in their way, so Oishi was put up to the task of pulling them apart. They truly could be vicious rivals at times. "Really, Momo, Kaidoh! Please stop it." Momoshiro and Kaidoh were in the process of having some odd form of a staring contest and didn't seem to notice Oishi's rather feeble attempts at pulling them apart.

"Get out of my face, Viper!"

"Don't call me that, damn it!"

Momoshiro growled, but a shadow seemed to cast over them. It was Tezuka, and Oishi was looking quite grateful he was over here to break up the fight. A ways away, Inui could be heard muttering, "There is a 99 percent chance that he makes them run laps." That probably didn't even need to be expressed with the data—even the freshmen knew what was going to come next. Then again, Inui had his book of data out for about everything, and with ranking matches coming up soon, it was important that he collect as much data as possible.

"Momo-chan-senpai and Kaidoh-senpai are scary when they fight," muttered one of the first years. Horio, though, had his hands on his hips triumphantly, trying to look at least a little brave. It doesn't really matter, though. In the end, he's frightened of Kaidoh, who seems to have a knack for frightening the freshmen with his hisses. The two took a minute or two to recognize the presence of the captain. The second they finally realized it; they shut their mouths quickly and took a few steps away from each other. Oishi breathed a sigh of relief. A tense silence passed through the whole group before finally…

"Twenty laps, both of you."

Momoshiro and Kaidoh universally groaned. "Tezuka-buchou," they muttered reprehensively. Tezuka stood firm, giving them a stoic glance. When it was apparent he wasn't going to back down on his orders, they finally set out to complete the twenty laps. Eiji is practically bouncing to get practicing, so he pulls Fuji along by the arm, away from Tezuka and the others.

"Nya, Fuji-kun, come practice with me for a while please! The ranking matches will be coming up soon. We should be ready!" In ways, that was true. Even though they usually won their matches with flying colors, they needed to be in the best shape and make their best effort so that they wouldn't end up, by some fluke, as not being able to be regulars anymore. Then again, there were always the ranking matches after that month to again pick regulars.

For a moment, Fuji glances back towards Tezuka, who seems to be intently gazing in the direction of Momoshiro and Kaidoh who have forgotten their previous scuffle in an attempt to finish the laps quickly. However, his gaze turns back for a moment, catching Fuji in an iron grip. His feet skid across the ground as, for a minute, Eiji unknowingly drags him along. Of course, this doesn't really last. Eiji stops when he realizes Fuji has planted his feet firmly and is staring in the completely opposite direction. "Fuji-kun?" he questions, placing a hand on the light-haired boy's shoulder. Fuji shakes his head and quickly looks away. For a minute there, he could swear that Tezuka was looking straight at him. It even takes a few minutes afterwards for him to fade out of his spell. Fuji's one of a group of people that finds Tezuka's eyes captivating, it seems.

Blinking, he turns off in another direction. Tenshi's there, again, and staring straight in his direction. That's unsettling, in more ways than one. By now, it could be expected that he had gotten used to it. Fuji has long since gotten used to the odd accent and bad grammar, but something still bothered him. That man's accent was so odd, and Fuji had trouble placing it. Tenshi never answered a question that he didn't want to, so it was no use when Fuji asked. If he was just trying to be mysterious, it wasn't working in the slightest. That "Saa… It doesn't really matter," could only be spoken so many times before it started to get to Fuji in form of frustration.

Once again, nobody was noticing. Tenshi waved, but Fuji didn't bother to wave back. He'd long since accepted that he was the only one able to see him, but that didn't stop him from pretending when in public that he didn't. What would people think if he started waving to imaginary beings? They would think he'd lost his mind! Somehow, it didn't deter the man in the slightest. Tenshama the foreigner, not fazed by being ignored in the slightest, followed him home every day, commented upon his tennis practice, and enjoyed frightening Fuji when walking around corners by appearing out of nowhere.

"Is something wrong, Fuji-kun?" Eiji called over to him. Maybe Fuji was zoning off again, staring off in Tenshi's direction. Shaking his head dismissively, he turned away from Tenshi and went on with practice like nothing had happened.

Practice ended on a good note. Since Tezuka had already broken up the quarrel between Kaidoh and Momoshiro, things were oddly quiet, and Fuji was grateful for it. After chatting for a while with Inui and Eiji, he headed, along with the others, into the clubroom in order to get changed and head in the direction of home. Maybe Tezuka would like to come over and study today. For a while, Fuji had been thinking of inviting Tezuka over to study for the reason that he needed help with world history. Currently, his teacher was covering India's independence, and Fuji didn't understand it very well. Tezuka was very good in the subject, though, and with the threat of an upcoming test; Fuji decided it would be best to ask the captain soon.

"Tezuka," he mentioned as they exited the club room, their bags slung over their shoulders, "I was wondering if you'd like to come over and study today." Off in the distance, Tenshi was waving to him, once again. Fuji paid him no mind. Sometimes he thought of the man as far too friendly and cheery. Sure, Fuji was friendly and cheery, but he drew a line. Tenshi's personality could almost be described as schizophrenic; when needed, he was extremely serious. The rest of the time, he was so happy that it was almost sickening. That wasn't what he was focusing on, though. Tezuka turned his head. He had his attention. "My mother said that it was okay if I brought a friend over any time this week, and I really needed some help with studying for a world history test. We can even help each other with our homework after we're done, if you want."

They'd studied together before, but for some reason, Tezuka arched an eyebrow. "What do you need help in?" He was a little surprised. After all, Fuji was supposed to be a genius. School was supposed to come fairly easy to him if he studied. Then again, he supposed it was a little biased to say that Fuji didn't ever need help with things. Fuji had justified reasons for asking him, despite everything else. He _knew_ that world history was one of Tezuka's better subjects.

"We're learning about Indian independence. I need to know more about Gandhi, and I can't find much about him in my books." The day they'd taken notes had very unluckily been the day he collapsed, so he missed the majority of the information on him. Yes, he'd been smart enough to ask to borrow one of his classmate's notes, but those hadn't been very clear, so it was hard for him to understand it all. "If you can't, it's understandable. Maybe we can do it another day if you're busy this afternoon?"

"No…" He said after a few minutes. "Today's just fine with me."

Fuji smiled. "That's great. Thank you so much."

Tenshi's attempt at conversation was like the buzz of an angry fly to Fuji's ears. He drifted past his gaze once, twice. For one, it was almost a laughing matter that he was talking directly to Fuji and Tezuka was completely oblivious, and for two, his questions were beginning to get annoying. Fuji thought that if Tenshama expected him to answer so many questions, then he should at least be ready to answer some of Fuji's questions. Namely, why he was the only one that was able to see him.

"You like this one, don't you?"

Of course, there was no answer from Fuji. Tenshi could've expected that, since he wasn't exactly asking at the best of times. He knew the boy was listening, though, even when he kept his eyes ahead and made pleasant conversation with the captain of the team, a boy with glasses and messy, brown hair. That was what he wanted to do. In a way, it was to get Fuji to think about things. Sure, the prodigy would think of it as annoying. It was technically an annoyance, but a test to make sure that Fuji was thinking of what he said. Why would a genius need that help? Somebody may have asked that. Tenshi was sure that Fuji was quite capable before he arrived, but with all that had been going on, Fuji now had the tendency to zone off and forget all his thoughts. Really, he commended Fuji for being able to pay attention to his ranting and talk to the captain at the same time.

"I don't really blame you. He has great eyes, no? Just from seeing how you looked at him today I could tell that you really liked him. Does he like you too?"

Fuji raised an eyebrow not from his conversation with Tezuka, but from Tenshi's second to last question. Great eyes? He supposed so. He didn't like Tezuka's eyes for any old reason. To put it bluntly, they were nice to look at. Of course, he didn't get that chance often. People did, after all, get suspicious when one boy stared into the eyes of another male.

"It is so easy to tell. You really do like him! I don't blame you, though. He's very attractive." Sure. That's exactly what Fuji wanted to hear from him. What was that supposed to reassure?

Fuji's gaze flicked ever so slightly to the side, his eyes opening for just a fraction of a second. Even Tenshi was able to detect the warning. _Leave me alone now._ That was what the eyes told him. Now, Tenshi was quieter, still following behind the two almost as a stalker would. Soon enough, Tenshama fell to the back of Fuji's mind. At least he was being quieter now. Sometimes Tenshi was helpful. Tenshama helped contemplate what he'd do and different decisions he would make. Despite the man's outwardly dull appearance, he really did have good insight when it came to real-life situations. Fuji found that if he ever asked advice, about half the time he would get helpful advice from the odd entity.

"You know, you need to have more confidence. If you were to tell him, the worst he could say is no. You bemoan it like you've told him and he hates you. What'll happen if you figure out in the end that he likes you and was too scared to say anything, just like you?" That was the last thing that Tenshi said. After that, he was completely silent. By the time they were approaching Fuji's house, he was out of sight once again.

"I'm home," He called upon entering his home. Tezuka looked around curiously. It was oddly quiet, but there were shoes at the door, so there were people here. Removing his shoes along with Fuji, he went along to the kitchen, where his mother was brewing tea.

"Fuji-kun, it's nice to see you. You brought a friend along today? Tell you what, I'll make you both a snack and bring up some tea when it's done."

Maybe she suspected he wasn't socializing enough. Fuji didn't know wherever she got the idea; he'd always had plenty of friends. Then again, this wouldn't have been the first time she worried. It didn't look like Yuuta was here yet today. Maybe he was still at his tennis practice, or training more. Yumiko greeted them cheerily halfway up the stairs, smiling at her older brother, here eyes lingering on Tezuka a little longer than normal.

His window was already open, so there was a nice breeze and a good amount of sunlight filtering in. Fuji didn't like to draw his curtains, since it compromised the amount of sunlight his cacti got. For a moment, it seemed like Tezuka was eyeing the plants warily, as if they were going to attack him. Fuji chuckled slightly at the thought. Surely, his room may've appeared slightly odd to anyone. There were assortments of cacti that Fuji frequently circulated around the room in order to ensure they all got adequate amounts of sunlight. Along with that, photographs he'd taken adorned the walls. Tezuka seemed to enjoy looking at these more than he did the larger cactus that was sitting near his bookshelf.

His mother stepped in with a tray. On it laid two cups of tea a bowl of strawberries. His mother must have just bought a lot of them on sale. Whenever fruit went on sale, his mother went right for it. That would be a nice treat, he thought to himself. "Have a nice time, boys. If you're studying, don't study too hard." They sat for a while just working on some of the history worksheets he'd been given to help make up for the time he'd missed during the regular history lesson.

"Your mother makes good tea," Tezuka commented quietly as he sipped the drink.

"She's the best one I know who makes it," he said. Really, his mother's tea was the best. He didn't even care for tea form a teashop or a vending machine in particular. She really excelled in the field, having years of practice at making it, after all. Tezuka pointed towards a problem on the worksheet. "Indians gained their independence by boycotting British goods. Cotton, to be specific. Gandhi's concept was that they could carry out peaceful protest. It worked, too."

Fuji nodded and wrote down what Tezuka said on the worksheet.

"Hey, Tezuka," He said a while late, pensively sketching lines on his worksheet.

"What?"

"Thanks for helping me out. I really appreciate it."

Fuji smiled, but for a different reason than Tezuka anticipated. Honestly, he was even happier to be able to spend time with Tezuka. Studying or not, he was enjoying it more than he had enjoyed life in a long time. Even when Tezuka didn't respond to the statement, he was happy. The studying went on as if nothing had happened. Tenshi was probably off somewhere, but not here. Maybe he'd decided to give them a little bit of alone time. Either way, Fuji was grateful. He was seeing more and more of the odd foreigner every day, so he hadn't expected he'd be able to actually spend time without him when he was with Tezuka. He'd have to remember to thank him later. Perhaps he'd sensed how important spending time with Tezuka actually was to him, deep down.

They'd finished up a while ago, and Tezuka could've gone home, he supposed. They'd done all their homework together and helped each other with things they hadn't understood. Now, he suspected Tezuka probably had better things to do. Now they conversed quietly, which came to Fuji discussing a good book that he had been required to read for literature, and some of his pronunciation troubles he was having in English. Tezuka, in turn, listened more than he spoke. Something told Fuji that Tezuka didn't mind. The time couldn't last, though…

Could it?

He really did like it, after all. He wished he'd be able to spend more time with Tezuka again. The tray aside and cups of tea long finished, it looked as if that time he'd been allowed would be up soon. After all, Tezuka needed to go home for dinner soon, and he didn't have the courage to ask his mother if he could stay for dinner after she'd been so kind as to make the tea and everything for them.

"I should really go," He said, only a few minutes later. Fuji could've even cued it at this rate. Though feeling a wave of regret at Tezuka's leaving, Fuji tore himself from the intense longing. _Tezuka needs to go home. Leave him be._ Smiling, he nodded. Curiously glancing out the window, he realized how dark outside it had become. Technically speaking, too, it wasn't that late yet. Rather, there was a storm approaching.

As if on cue, the promised storm blew in with a gust of wind, and a crack of thunder. His window was still open, so the curtains blew backwards with the rush of wind. All the papers he had out were immediately a swirling tornado, and he was lucky that none of his cacti were knocked over. They must've had enough dirt in their pots that they were able to stand against the wind. Running over to the window, he struggled to close it. The wind seemed to have blown the window even farther open, though, and now it was stuck solid even though Fuji struggled against it with all his might.

Warmth. Against the rush of cold wind, Tezuka appeared as if by magic and was struggling along with him to close the window, getting pelted by rain along with Fuji in the process. The window caught, and suddenly slammed shut, sending both boys flying backwards with the release of force. Fuji, on his stomach, and Tezuka on his back, were lying just a few feet away from each other, fingertips touching. Fuji seemed not to notice their position, rubbing his head slightly and groaning because he'd had the wind knocked out of him from the fall. His head turning over in Tezuka's direction, he shook his head a little. The forlorn hope that this touch meant more bothered him, but he didn't say anything about it. Despite what Tenshi said, confessing one's feelings wasn't always as easy as it sounded. He'd much prefer keep his friendship with Tezuka for now, too. Most likely, he'd end up warding of Tezuka with his feelings.

"Thanks, Tezuka."

Tezuka sighed and sat up. The contact between their fingertips still remained, for a fraction of a second, and Fuji spared it a second glance. Though overjoyed by this, and growing more flustered by the second, he didn't say anything. Fuji felt a sinking feeling in his heart when Tezuka stood, and the contact between their hands was broken. He did his best to hide his disappointment in form of smile.

"Well, I'd better be going."

Fuji got to his feet and began straightening the papers that had been knocked aside by the wind and ensuring that none of his cacti had been knocked over. Luckily, there was no damage aside from a few raindrops on the floor. The weather could be so unpredictable sometimes. Not even the weatherman could make a solid forecast. Fuji stayed turned away from Tezuka. His breath now choppy and his cheeks now red and flushed, he wouldn't be able to bear it if Tezuka saw him in this state. All this from just a simple, unintended touch wasn't something Fuji could comprehend anymore. He didn't want to comprehend it, though. It had been wonderful. Too bad it hadn't been intentional.

"Bye, Tezuka,"

"Bye, Fuji."


	5. Chapter 5

Me: This chapter sucks. It took me too long. Ah well. PLEASE Review.

Yup. Let's go over this again, shall we? Prince of Tennis isn't mine in any sort of way. Yeah, the plot an original characters are. Anything else? Heck no.

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**To Sedate- Chapter 5**

Fuji sat in English class the next day. He was beginning to zone off again. With his hand supporting his chin, he was staring out the window rather than looking over at the teacher, who was currently lecturing on vocabulary that Fuji probably should've been taking notes on. Tezuka and his encounter yesterday was fresh into his mind. Who wouldn't have expected that his mind would wander after something like that? He was a teenager, and had a crush on another boy. To top it off, Tezuka wasn't a "touchy-feely" sort of person. So, being able to touch Tezuka, even though it was just the fingertips, was like finding gold in bleak and desolate tundra. A teacher's figure did in fact do enough to snap him out of those thoughts, though. Almost rudely, he fell roughly back to reality. Before him was a peeved-looking English teacher, his teacher's face fixed in a stern gaze, much drier than something Tezuka could ever muster.

"Fuji-kun, do you care to tell me what exactly is bothering you so much that you can't pay any attention to my lectures?" This was, after all, the third time that he'd caught Fuji staring out the window in such a clueless manner as of late, and he obviously wasn't very happy about it. "I'd like that you would go out in the hall and think about the values of paying attention for a while. We'll speak after class." With his classmate's eyes fixed firmly on him, he left the classroom and went to stand against the wall outside the door. Tenshi came walking to him from down the hallway.

" Shuusuke, is something wrong? In trouble? What'd you do? Not paying attention again?" Sometimes, Tenshama was able to read his mind exactly. It was eerie in Fuji's mind, and something that was hard to believe. It was just his luck that it was in English class, too. Really, he hadn't ever had trouble in the class. However, with the goings-on with Tezuka, his grades were beginning to suffer. Fuji wasn't superhuman. There was only so much that one could handle before slowly beginning to break down.

"Don't worry about it, okay?" He brushed a hand across Fuji's cheek. Fuji only ignored it, probably irritated slightly. "You need to relax. Just try and focus. You shouldn't always worry and over think things. There's only so much one can analyze a situation before it's pointless." Fuji raised an eyebrow slightly. Tenshi, when he first met him, used to never make sense. Now, he was beginning to get more and more logical by the day while Fuji's sanity slowly swirled down the drain. "I know you can't stop thinking about Tezuka, but you have to try. It's not worth throwing your life away for it. You know your mother will be disappointed if she discovers you aren't doing your best in school. Don't ruin your life for something that's unrequited."

Maybe he could've understood that advice a while back, but now the words sounded foreign to him. Mumbling slightly under his breath, he looked out the window.

His teacher stepped outside. "You can come back inside now, Fuji-kun. I'd like it right now, though, if you would tell me if there's anything bothering you." The man's hand rested upon his hips, and he looked at Fuji seriously. Fuji, though, didn't seem to notice. He shook his head and smiled.

"No, sir, there's nothing wrong. I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I was zoning off. I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

"Very well. Come in, then. If this happens again, though, there will be trouble." Fuji nodded and headed back to his seat.

"I'll hand back your papers now, okay." A few weeks back they'd been required to write a paper in English. Fuji, naturally, had worked to do his best at it. The paper didn't have requirements that were too strict. After all, students weren't fluent in English. That didn't stop Fuji from trying his best. It turned out the paper had been a little past, one page, too.

There was a small flick of the paper as the teacher placed the paper he had written on his desk. With a slow, sinking feeling, Fuji picked up the paper. There were red marks all over his paper correcting his grammar, spelling, and other items. Up at the top of the paper, the teacher had written _Try a little harder to check your grammar before you turn assignments in._ He gulped. The score at the top of this paper wasn't just bad; it was horrible. He focused his eyes ahead, trying to ignore the flip his stomach did. He'd done his best to make sure his grammar was correct, for the most part. What had happened that made him do so badly on the paper?

Slightly concerned, He picked up the paper and had a closer look at it, squinting at all his mistakes. Head hanging low, he put the paper in his desk. Maybe he should've asked their teacher for help, but now he was too distracted to do anything of the sort. He wasn't in the mood to deal with another lecture.

Tenshi seemed to be inclined to worry about Fuji. Sometimes Fuji found it helpful, but other times he wished Tenshi would just leave him alone to do as he chose. After all, he knew perfectly well how to take care of himself. He didn't need Tenshama telling him what to do of every second of every day. Sometimes he would arch an eyebrow and tilt his head before answering. The thought that Tenshi might have some compulsive anxiety disorder had passed his thoughts more than a few times; the concept was, in fact, growing more and more prevalent by the day as soon as Tenshi's worry escalated. Touching his forehead and closing his eyes, Fuji would sigh softly. Really, it was a little stressful constantly having to answer the same question. The strange man wasn't the only one to constantly ask him "Are you okay, Fuji?"

Nothing really came of Tezuka, at least from what Fuji could say. Earlier in the last month, he'd asked Fuji if he was ill. Upon the beginning of the inter-school ranking tournaments, he'd asked again, just offhandedly after practice. Sometimes it made him feel hollow, to smile and say, "Yes, I am alright."

After all, it was Tezuka he was so enamored with.

He was supposed to _trust_ Tezuka.

It was quickly becoming Tenshama's trademark to bounce that tennis ball up and down. Fuji didn't know for what reason he did, because he seemed to not know a thing about tennis. Slowly, he'd picked up the question, but earlier he'd asked Fuji what exactly a fault. Either where he'd come from, he'd never played tennis, or Tenshi was absolutely crazy. After everything that happened, the prodigy wasn't sure of which. All he was able to do was answer whatever questions came up. Other than that, Tenshi seemed obsessed with his style. Eiji seemed to pique his interest as well, with the sort of acrobatic style he played.

"Is he a gymnast?" he asked one day.

Fuji smiled.

"No, that's just the way he plays. I suppose he wouldn't make a bad gymnast, though, given the thought." Fuji was able to see why Tenshi was so interested in the way Eiji played, especially since it appeared that this was the first time in his life that he'd ever seen somebody play tennis before. Then again, Tenshi was a foreigner, with a slowly improving grammar, but a very strong accent to make up for that improvement.

Sometimes he would hesitate, asking Tenshama to repeat it again, because he hadn't heard it through the thick, unrecognizable accent. What he could easily tell was that Tenshama hadn't been in Japan before, but he seemed to adapt easily. Currently, Fuji was teaching him Kanji. He'd already picked up katakana and hiragana very quickly. Every day Fuji introduced five new characters to him, so Tenshi was learning fast. For a foreigner, he was becoming awfully contempt at the writing system. It surprised Fuji that somehow, still, the man wasn't able to speak with proper grammar.

"Which one does that mean?" Tenshama asked while Fuji was writing a report about a rainforest's ecosystem. This was a rather simple character, but Fuji hadn't taught it to Tenshi yet. Curiously, he looked over it. Usually, it took him this long to read over something that Fuji had written. After all, it was obvious that Japanese wasn't his native tongue. "I know this one mean's 'forest', so what does that one mean?" He added on after a minute.

"That one means 'rain'. So, it's 'rainforest' that I'm writing."

Distraught as he may have been over his feelings for Tezuka, Tenshi seemed to be able to correct it. Smiling around him, Fuji did sometimes feel annoyed, but for the most part, Tenshama's cheerfulness rubbed off. Fuji was beginning to be happier being around him. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Tenshi sat next to him sitting Indian-style. Fuji didn't seem to notice how close they were in proximity when Tenshi leaned over to put over at another kanji character that he had written, asking Fuji to explain it again.

Drumming his fingers slightly, Fuji hesitated and then wrote a little more. Inwardly, he was groaning to himself. Right now, he still had his English work to do. Ever since the bad paper, his English had slowly been declining. Even the quality of his notes, no matter how much he tried to focus, was getting worse and worse by the lesson. Now whenever he had to look at the letters, his eyes blurred and he felt immensely dizzy. Tonight, it was translating sentences in his workbook. It shouldn't have been to hard, but somehow fate had found it a way to make it impossible.

_He couldn't disappoint his mother by not doing his best in school._

_He couldn't let Tezuka get to him so much as making him fail his classes. _

_He was slowly beginning to lose the person he was in the process… _

"Hey," Tenshi called, pointing over to the sheet again and leaning close to Fuji's shoulder. For a moment, Fuji thought he'd ask another question. He wasn't in a state to answer it, either. For goodness sake, he didn't even know what he was really writing. "This is spelled wrong. What you wrote is actually a word, but there should be an 'e' there, not an 'a'."

_Tenshi spoke English?_

"Oh…" Fuji said for a moment, his eyebrows knitting in slight worry. "Thanks a lot. Taking his pencil, he erased his previous answer. It really was a surprise, and it made his heart jump a little. When the scratching of the pencil stopped, and the correct answer was in place, Tenshi leaned back and continued to look at his worksheet.

"I didn't know you spoke English." He said. Tenshi shrugged.

"I picked it up a while back."

"Do you know if anything else is wrong?"

"Not that I can see."

"Thanks."

That was a rather worthwhile skill. Up until now, Tenshi had always been the one that asked the questions. Rather it be about tennis, Japanese, or just about Fuji. Going back to his English homework, Fuji felt grateful. Pausing after a minute, he pointed with his pencil to another word. "Do you know what this means?" he queried, unable to figure it out.

"It means 'help'," he answered simply. "So this would mean 'She helped her mother with the chores in the kitchen.'" Fuji wrote the proper word in the blank and went back to working on his homework, wondering if Tenshi was American or something. Tenshi didn't sound American, though. He'd met foreigners from America before, and they always sounded so much different. They sounded foreign, but modern. Tenshi's accent was odd… odd in the sense that it sounded ancient. Fuji hesitated for only a moment on the thought.

"Hey, Tenshi?" he queried, looking down intently at his paper so as not to even give passing glance to the man. Stretching his arms above his head, Tenshama paused for a moment, laying his hands in his lap.

"Hmm?" was the pensive response.

"If you were in my situation, what would you do about Tezuka?" Tenshi seemed to like him, even though Fuji was able to faintly sense it, he paid no heed to it. Perhaps such a question was cruel, and could have painful effects. Touching his chin, Tenshi paused, trying to think of some sort of suitable answer. Despite how little Tenshi acted like an adult, Fuji was seeking his expertise since he was obviously older.

_'Pedophile!'_

The thought ripped nastily through his brain, just as offhandedly as it had been that Fuji had brought up a question about Tezuka. Shaking these thoughts off, he might have decided then to do in spite of those thoughts, and draw Fuji into an embrace. With his fingers woven slightly through Fuji's hair, he laid his chin on Fuji's head. Painful as it was…

"I'd hold onto him, if you really want him so much. Don't give in." No, that's not what his thoughts told him to do. Cruel, though, as it may have seemed, Tenshi decided that was best. 'He's suffering. Make him forget Tezuka.' A small frown made way across his lips. Being so much like Fuji, he never frowned, until now. It wasn't his place to. After all, he was just a…

Random stranger.

"You should know such things. Just try and think with your common sense. Remember, you haven't told Tezuka you liked him. You've got a good chance with him. Go ahead. The sakuras are in bloom. Invite him on a picnic or something over the weekend. I've seen you two studying together before. He'll enjoy it as much as you do." Slightly, Fuji stiffened. He'd seen them? The times when he had Tezuka over, Tenshi was never anywhere within plain sight, at least not for Fuji. Fuji blinked.

Really, he didn't understand it sometimes, why Tenshi didn't just go off and find a boyfriend his own age. With all he had been doing lately, it seemed like he really needed it. So, why did Tenshi persist? Why did Tenshi wait after practice and always seem to be delighted in playing with a tennis ball even though he didn't really know much about tennis at all. Tenshi saw it right to call him by his first name even after their first meeting, and seemed to have virtually no home at all.

Fuji liked the spring, and it was slowly fading away. Soon enough the sakura trees would be normal, free of pink petals, and life would fall into summer, fading once again to a pattern Fuji cared not to memorize. Back at the tennis courts, a cheerful young man ran around the tennis courts for warm-up laps, followed by his red-haired friend and the team's vice captain, Oishi. Where was that person now? Lips quivering, he shut his eyes. He wanted to lie down and sleep. Cold. He felt cold. A breeze reached him, but was like ice against clammy skin, making him freeze up slightly.

"It's easy enough for you to say. You're not the one dealing with it."

"You don't think I've ever been though it?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"It isn't that—it's just that this is Tezuka." Fuji paused for just a moment to yawn. He hadn't realized how nice it was to be able to lean in against Tenshi's chest not because it provided emotional comfort, but rather, because it provided him with a nice place to rest his head.

"Don't you think that all the times out of all the times I've watched you, I've been able to get to know him just a while, from a distance. You worry too much, and I don't think that your consequences will be bad if he doesn't like you. Take a risk, Shuusuke, feel the thrill. You used to like to do that, didn't you? You were confident."

Fuji muttered something unintelligible under his breath and shut his eyes out of exhaustion. "You sure?" his lack of confidence in the matter didn't seem to matter as of much right now. He was just discussing. "I used to like it. Liking Tezuka was the best at first because it _was_ thrilling to be around him. Now it's just tiring. I feel so helpless. If I try and do anything, nothing will happen, after all…"

"Have a bit more confidence, Shuusuke."

"It's tiring, thinking about it," he muttered under his breath a good few minutes later. Tenshi shifted back so that Fuji was no longer lying against his chest, rather, he had his head on the pillow. Unwillingly unwinding his fingers from Fuji's hair, and placed them in his lap again, surveying the teen.

"Then sleep a little,"

If only everything could fade into nothing. Then, love wouldn't matter anymore. In darkness, there is silence. Emotionless. It's a good idea; "paradise" is; yet it is so hard to believe in that it takes the very thing that, in the end, is the downfall of many. If only it could be conquered, or at least controlled.

Tenshi thinks that saying love is a person's downfall is like saying, "it is, but it isn't." Fuji may be able to ask advice on love itself, but otherwise, Tenshama felt just as clueless as Fuji. Sometimes, the passage of time yielded no knowledge but simple experience. It was the experience that showed Tenshi the painful truth. Unless Fuji was able to get control of the emotions, he'd fall victim like so many others had. Like Tenshi had, except that had been a long time ago…

At his own home, Tezuka looks up to the blue sky. _Would you think of me when I think of you, miss me when I miss you, long for me when I long for you._ Tezuka is always so stoic that he's used to being able to understand and easily cope with emotions. Now his worry for Fuji is getting the best of him.

_Fuji… _


	6. Chapter 6

Me: Here's the next chapter. I really enjoyed writing this, although it turned out a little weird in the end. Enjoy!

As always, Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ojisama doesn't belong to me, so please don't sue. I really can't afford to pay thousands for copyright infringement I never committed.

**Read and review please! Thank you!**

To Sedate- Chapter 6 

It was a beautiful day outside, really. The sakura were finally in bloom, causing the first years grief because of the recurring problem of having to sweep the scattered petals off of the tennis courts. Many of the clubs were in full swing again. Off in the distance in the afternoons, one was easily able to see the girl's softball team refining their skills in order to prepare for upcoming tournaments. The art club had withdrawn from the now gloomy art room and gone outside with their sketchbooks in hopes of getting a good first-hand view of the blooming sakura. Even the science club sometimes came outside to do different activities.

Like a peaceful lullaby, the wind would brush through the treetops, and Fuji would contemplate when exactly he should ask Tezuka to come with him to look at the sakura. Sure, it was a feminine thing to do, but Fuji thought it would be a nice way to spend some time together, and maybe get his chance to properly thank Tezuka for helping him study. His family was going on a picnic together that weekend, so it would be a hard thing to do now.

As if to snap out of a trance, he stood from where he had been sitting, against the wall of the clubhouse. "Fuji-kun!" cheerfully, the red-haired Eiji bounded up to him. Sometimes, he couldn't help it. Eiji had his moments in which Fuji could be apprehensive about him, but otherwise, Eiji's happiness was just as contagious as Fuji's smile could be at its best moments. "Nya! Let's eat lunch together, Fuji-kun!" That's right; it was during lunch break, not after school. For a moment amongst his own thoughts, Fuji had forgotten that little fact.

With a pleasant little smile on his face, he nodded. "Sure. That sounds nice." Eiji nodded back to him and bounded ahead of him for a minute, pausing to add something. Fuji hesitated in his steps for just a moment, but it was easy for him to follow quickly after Eiji.

"Do you mind if Tezuka-buchou eats with us? I asked him if he wanted to eat lunch with you and me and he actually said yes!" Fuji paused for a moment, stopping in his tracks. Such a thing shouldn't have been weird. After all, it wasn't the first time that they would've eaten lunch together. However, slowly as he acclimated himself to the presence of Tenshi, the prodigy slowly was beginning to feel slightly strange around Tezuka, in a good way, though. "Don't you want to?" he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side and arching an eyebrow in the direction of his friend. "Eh?" Fuji could only make his smile wider.

"Of course I'd love to," he replied. "My mind just wandered for a moment there. I apologize." Almost automatically, his eyes searched for Tenshi. Now, he was getting so used to seeing the man around that the scene felt oddly empty without him. The only time the foreigner was actually out of sight nowadays was during class, not including lunch, and whenever he was with Tezuka. Their study sessions together had been getting more and more frequent as of late, but even with that, Fuji conversed with Tenshi frequently. The man's knowledge of English not only helped him make up for the badly graded paper, but also to learn a lot more about the language than he had ever been able to understand before.

On the school roof, it was breezy and slightly cooler. The weather was very tepid, and Fuji was surprised there weren't more groups eating lunch on the roof. Eiji munched contently on a rice ball while Fuji slowly ate his curry. For the vast majority, Tezuka wasn't touching his own food, just offering what little he could contribute to Fuji and Eiji's conversation, calmly adding in things that Eiji often asked him.

"Tezuka, what was the beginning of the Christian reformation in Europe?" he asked. Things had been like that, lately. Whenever he was confused about something pertaining to his world history class, he went to Tezuka because that was the boy's best subject. Somehow, even with his emotional turmoil, things were beginning to settle over. His grades weren't falling as much as they had before, simply for the fact that Tezuka and Tenshi were great helps towards homework and tests. Betraying his outwardly senseless exterior, Tenshi knew enough to help Fuji learn a lot.

"The beginning of the reformation was when Martin Luther posted the 95 theses on the door of his church, telling everything he thought that the church did wrong." Nowadays, he didn't know what he would do without the explanation of Tezuka on the subject, since his notes were slowly beginning to get worse and worse, and he was more prone to fall asleep as soon as he came home. Falling asleep in school was already a difficult matter Fuji dealt with often. As they conversed further, Eiji seemed more preoccupied with looking down at the lovely view, the world full of green as life sprung back from slumber. Fuji was only able to smile. Be it odd, but he was truly happy now, just being with Tezuka. Usual misery cast aside, he was happier than he had been in quite a long while.

"_Shuusuke, take a risk. Ask him on a date, anything. You can't keep feelings locked up forever, or you'll be reaping your own grave." _That was what Tenshi would tell him, and Fuji would be able to repeat it in the exact same tone the man would use. That one piece of advice wasn't something that Fuji would be able to listen to as easily as it might have been with a clearer He'd suggested Fuji to take a yoga class. Nice as that sounded, everything seemed to be going so fast in his life that he wouldn't have time for yoga. So, in the end his resolution was to talk with Tenshi as a certain form of "yoga" techniques for the day. Somehow, it really did work as a good anti-stress routine. After all, Tenshi was right about one thing, and that was that he didn't want to end up collapsing in school, or anywhere else, again.

In the back of his mind, Fuji wondered where exactly Tenshi had wandered off to, since he seemed to have no apparent home other than the outdoors. Then again, the outdoors was an awfully wide space. Tenshi was a familiar sight though, and the place felt slightly empty without him. However, he knew not to worry too much. After all, Tenshi had become over time more loyal to him than a dog would've been. He'd always be there, in Fuji's mind, just as their friendship strengthened with each conversation. He'd even notice the man's vastly improved grammar as of late. Raising his wooden chopsticks to his mouth, he looked down only to realize a moment later tat there was no more curry on his pair of chopsticks. Upon looking down at his lunchbox, which had been in his lap, he noticed he'd eaten all of it without even realizing it.

Slightly dejected, simply because the curry had tasted quite good today, he went on to a more western thing that his mother had packed in his lunch today. A single sandwich, made on white bread was there, so he munched on it while staring off into the distance pensively. A red-colored blur shot up almost a second later, amidst their pleasant conversation. "Nya, I forgot! I promised I'd meet Oishi by the tennis courts before we had to go back to class. See you guys later!" Without waiting from a reply from either, he sped off, nearly forgetting to close the door back downstairs behind him when he went back. By now Fuji was able to imagine the acrobatic tennis player shooting through the halls, perhaps getting scolded by a teacher on the way down.

Looking over to Tezuka, he raised an eyebrow in question. Tezuka didn't look all too shaken by the whole affair, although it wasn't as if Fuji expected him to be in the first place. An uncomfortable silence shifted between them, and hesitantly, Fuji set his sandwich and lunchbox aside, looking hopefully towards Tezuka, in an almost inquisitive manner. After studying Fuji's face for a moment, the captain tilted his head to the side. A moment later the confusion was gone, and Tezuka was also calmly setting his lunch aside, sitting Indian-style and glancing towards Fuji.

Drumming his fingers on the ground, Fuji's gaze turned skywards. "How have you been, Tezuka?" _It seems like ages since I've been able to talk to you properly. Even though we always study together, you're almost always so distant. Why?_ Had it not been Tezuka, the boy would have shrugged.

"I've been well. I have a lot of tests and projects coming up." His simple answered seemed not to be satisfying to Fuji, although it had been exactly what he had asked for, an answer. "What about you?"

_Who? Me? Oh, not to well, Tezuka-kun. _

"Aa, Buchou!" He answered in almost a sickeningly cheerful tone of voice with a very wide smile to top it off. "I've been wonderful." He stopped himself because he suddenly realized it wasn't very believable, and Tezuka obviously wasn't going to buy that sort of answer so easily. With a stern look form the captain, he changed his answer, "I'm doing okay, I suppose. I've been a little distracted as of late."

For a moment, he expected for Tezuka to ask him what for he was distracted by. However, after a short moment of silence, he was cursing himself for it. After all, Tezuka was never one to pry on this sort of thing.

"What's been bothering you?" Fuji stopped himself mid-thought and looked back at Tezuka. Now that had shocked him quite a bit. For a fraction of a second, his head turned down, and his griped tightened around his knees. Visibly, his smile faltered by a good few degrees. Somebody would've probably said that Tezuka had struck a nerve, although the boy didn't seem to have noticed that he had done such a thing. He remained visually unruffled, although there was no telling what he really thought since Tezuka had a remarkable ability, exactly like Fuji's, to mask anything very well. Unlike Fuji, though, he hid it behind deceiving eyes and a plain expression, whereas Fuji always had to smile in order to do it. If Tezuka was to smile, one could either guarantee that it was genuine, or he was putting up a pretty bad act.

"Well, I've just been thing a lot as of late."

No response.

_What about?_

"Tezuka…"

_I don't know what in the world I'm supposed to say. What can I say, Tenshi?_

He picked up his lunchbox and clutched to it. Where was Tenshi when he needed him? Where was that helpful advice that would help him to get over whatever he was feeling and talk to Tezuka normally? It was undeniable; Tezuka detected something was off and there wasn't much Fuji could've done to ward him off of the subject. Fuji didn't act like this, and a person didn't need to know much about him to know this. Looking at Tezuka with his eyes open, he blinked for a moment, eyebrows knitting together as he though. What he wouldn't do for a rainstorm right now. It would be a good excuse to be able to get away from Tezuka. What if he was blushing? What would Tezuka say? _Shuusuke, you worry to much, _his inner voice told him in a strange sort of disappointment that Fuji wasn't able to decipher.

Tezuka was staring plainly at him now, his glasses flashing slightly in the sunlight. Hesitantly, Fuji turned back, and his eyes caught with Tezuka's. Now he was able to easily remember why he liked the boy so much. He was handsome, with his messy brown hair and his interesting eyes. Overcome by the desire to reach out and touch Tezuka, he touched his fingers to Tezuka's knee for a fraction of a second. Electricity sprung through his fingertips, making his heart race and causing him to draw his fingertips back suddenly as if he'd been burned.

"Goodness, I forgot," He said suddenly a minute later, making Tezuka jump. "I have to go talk to my teacher about a test I have coming up. I'm really sorry I can't talk to you more, Tezuka. I'll see you at morning practice tomorrow, right?" There was still no response from the captain. Gathering up his things, he stood. "I'll be going now. Turning away quickly, he could feel his cheeks heat up slightly as he walked past slightly, his heart thudded against his ribcage and an odd heat overcame him.

Luckily his breathing was quiet, though erratic and choked. "Here, I'll get the door for you," Tezuka called over to him. Fuji wondered slightly for a moment, before Tezuka added, "It looks like you have your hands full." Nodding slightly, Fuji walked with Tezuka over to the door, and the captain opened it for him. Stepping slightly to the side, Fuji spared a second glance for Tezuka.

"Thank you."

He was standing right next to Tezuka, and for some reason he couldn't remember being so close to him. Up close, his eyes were even more breathtaking then they were from afar. Fuji understood why so many girls, young and old alike, were able to swoon so over Tezuka. Feeling weak at the knees, he forced himself to move forward. No matter how many commands his brain gave his legs, though, they remained unresponsive and rooted to the spot. A sudden cold gust of wind blew past, ruffling through their hair. Fuji, brushing some bangs out of his eyes, frowned slightly, placing his fingertips on the doorknob, near to Tezuka's hand, although not touching it.

His hand tingled a little bit, being so close to Tezuka's hand. "Maybe I better get going now, or I'll be late," he said slowly, though seeming to zone off.

Tezuka nodded, as if to say _you may go now._ Fuji, against his better wishes, took his fingers of the doorknob and let his hand hang loosely at his side. _I shouldn't kiss him…_No sooner had that thought gone thought his head than Fuji kissed him in a fervent kiss, hands planed on Tezuka's cheeks, while Tezuka remained stiff as a board throughout. Pressing himself closer to Tezuka, he didn't even notice the boy's pulse, which was racing out of control.

Kissing Tezuka's neck quickly, he wasn't able to comprehend the situation fully since his brain was in such a fog. _He wanted to be with Tezuka, and he needed ever so much to be with Tezuka. _

Unbeknownst to him, adrenaline racing through the veins of the other, he really could only sense that Tezuka was stiff and frozen. Slowly, his hands slipped down from Tezuka's face, as an inkling of consciousness began to slip back to him. Abruptly, he pulled away, and was at least a good ten feet away from the captain. Literally, the prodigy could've vouched that he felt the distance between them physically. If he'd didn't have any shred of self-control, he would've raced back to Tezuka. Trembling slightly, though, he stopped himself.

Something seemed to suddenly hit him, slapping him harshly right in the face. Fuji backed down, and Tezuka was silent, his hands loosely at his side and his gaze showing more than just an inkling of surprise and shock.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, before launching himself away from Tezuka faster than Eiji could've ever run. He didn't plan to talk to Tezuka now, and the last thing he wanted was for Tezuka to find him. As both boys placed their fingers weakly over their lips, the distance between them grew, and slowly a feeling of intense, unsatisfied heat settled in. Fuji would do all he could to avoid Tezuka, and it was likely that at least for a while, the captain would probably do the same. Perhaps that was what was best. Behind him, was a very befuddled Tezuka, and Fuji knew that he wasn't ready to face him. There were so many "what-ifs" he couldn't stand it much longer. If somebody had seen them, their reputations wouldn't be the only thing at stake. They had the potential to be in huge trouble, and numerous people, including their families, would be dragged into it. Right now, Fuji couldn't be more opposed to such an idea.

Most students were heading back to their classrooms, and Fuji raced past them all, knocking into a good few without even turning a head backwards to see whom he had collided with. Whispers shot through the crowd, and a few even glared angrily, wondering what had gotten into the prodigy, idolized by so many girls at the school. He didn't stop running until he got back to his classroom, where he promptly went to his desk, breathing harsh and uneven.

_Where are you, Tenshi?_ That was his last desperate thought before Fuji buried his face embarrassingly in his arms and pleaded with the gods above for class to begin so that this event could pass. That, or that he would wake up and find out this all had been a hideously bad dream. He hadn't wanted to kiss Tezuka, it had just happened. Trembling, he was beginning to regret it greatly.

Ironic, wasn't it that the only time he actually really needed Tenshi that the man wasn't around? Now all he could do was grit his teeth and clench his fists, praying that the momentary passion would fade, just like warmth in a spring rainstorm would.

"Tenshama!" Miles away from where Fuji lay with his head buried in his arms, a voice called out, making the foreigner withdraw from his place behind a large tree. There stood two of the oddest-looking characters a person would've expected to see in all of Japan. The language was foreign, and indecipherable. The first man, who had shouted, looked more ancient than time; his skin was pale and wrinkled in numerously like a potato sack. To hide his head, which was completely bald, he wore what might've resembled a purple turban. Clad in white robes, he wasn't somebody that was the least bit Japanese, nor somebody anybody would ever see roaming the streets of Japan.

Behind him stood a boy that couldn't have been more than nine or ten. Short, underweight, and having lanky arms, this boy gazed reprehensively at him through sharp blue eyes that deeply resembled Fuji's. Black hair fell slightly over his eyes, and he looked distinctly ruffled.

"You're fraternizing with the client! How many times must we withdraw you? Job after job, you promise to prove yourself. Yet, somehow, you forget your duties in light of the attractive client. Don't you remember the vow you took at the beginning of this? You would help, no matter what the cost."

Nodding meekly, Tenshi shrunk back slightly. Maybe this was the only thing on earth, no, the universe, that he was frightened of. That was understandable, too. Currently, the man was swollen with anger and his outburst would've been enough to scatter all the birds within a three-mile radius. Standing behind him, the boy far younger than the two other men seemed very calm, perhaps sensing safety in the fact that it wasn't he who was being yelled at.

"I encourage him to ask that Tezuka boy out on a date. It's his choice not to. Do you think I'm going in there and telling him that he needs to forget?"

"May I ask how many times you've kissed him, though?"

No response. Perhaps it had been hypothetical after all.

"I expect that if you wish to keep this job, you will be working to remedy the situation, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"If I don't see an improvement in one week, you'll be reassigned."

I don't want to put Shuusuke through that… 

"Yes, I understand."

A flock of birds fluttered out from the trees, making the leaves rustle. The boy standing behind the old man gave Tenshama an odd, searching look. Tilting his head slightly at the strange boy, he wondered what exactly the boy thought about sometimes. His steely eyes betrayed no emotion, and the only evidence of underlying child-like innocence was the softer, more boyish features he had about him. Turning the other way, the man reminded him. "One week, Tenshama. Otherwise there will be consequences."

In the blink of an eye, the two were gone, and Tenshi was left alone.

Quiet fell over the landscape, and Tenshi slowly turned and left, fists clenched slightly. For now, Fuji would have to be his prime focus. Betraying those thoughts were his upset features; the man's words had obviously been more than just a ripple throughout his moods. After all, it wasn't like he wanted to be here. The old man had called him out here with the request to speak to him. Given the choice, Tenshama would've avoided him fully and made a beeline for Seishun Gakuen. At least Fuji didn't have afternoon practice today. They would be able to talk on the way home unless something came up.

After that conversation, Tezuka looked forward greatly to that conversation…

Fuji on the other hand, was in as much of a rush to get home as if a lunatic had been chasing him, or as if he was in a horror movie. Saved from the burden of attending afternoon practice, he was more than eager to gather his things as soon as the bell rang. After bowing to the teacher, he ran out of the classroom quickly, befuddling everyone who spotted him. No, he thought with his fists clenched, he wouldn't take the risk of meeting Tezuka once again. Vivid in his mind was the memory of kissing him. Slowly bringing a finger to his lip, he sent the thought off with a parting farewell. If the knowledge of Tezuka knowing his feelings and never speaking to him again because of it didn't bother him, then he knew nothing else in the world could.

He'd even forgotten his tennis racquet. Fuji was too distracted to remember.

He didn't care that he left his schoolbag on the floor when he got home, but upon entering the house, his mother stood at the threshold, smiling and asking him kindly to bring his things upstairs. Never had he huffed softly under his breath like Yuuta would've when annoyed. Now he did. Trekking up the stairs, he either ignored or didn't hear his sister Yumiko's greeting and shut his bedroom door softly behind him, dropping his bag on the ground upon entrance. From downstairs, their mother winced, wondering if her son had gotten into a fight at school.

_Tezuka was going to hate him. _

_Tezuka was going to HATE him. _

_Tezuka was going to hate **him.**_

A lump rose in the back of Fuji's throat. No, that hadn't been what he wanted at all. Now Tezuka was going to hate him forever, and it was all because of a simple kiss. Perhaps now he was possessed, because he didn't feel like the real Fuji would be making such a big deal about this. The real Fuji wouldn't be acting like such a… _girl._

Yet somehow, here he was, on the verge of crying over such a simple thing. What had happened? Why had he let it get so far that he was now so depressed. Fuji sobbed once and clutched his bed sheets, though the slipped like water through his fingertips.

Where was Tenshi? 

"Shuusuke?" a soft voice called out from the shadows. Melancholy silence fell over the room.

"Tenshi." His voice was barely a whisper. Dimly, he was aware of arms around him, but as he cried harder and harder, the world slowly faded to black despite the bright spring day.


	7. Chapter 7

Gotta make this quick. Karate's in five minutes; standard disclaimers apply, please review, and thank you to anyone who reviewed. I'll be writing replies tomorrow. School testing is this week, so it's rather relaxed. Even though I should be studying

Tenshi and Fuji focus in this chapter. Tezuka Fuji focus next one. Hopefully it won't take to long.

Matta ne!

To Sedate- Chapter 7 

As spring crept along, the weekend dawned that Fuji was to go up to Oosaka with the rest of his family, as they had for as long as Fuji was able to remember. They were even excused from classes on Friday and Saturday for it, and were supposed to be back on the preceding Sunday in time to get enough sleep for the next day. It was "temple cleanup weekend" in Oosaka.

For the longest time, Fuji could always remember visiting 'Baa-chan and Ji-san'. They were an elderly couple, more ancient than time. Not even Yumiko knew of their relation to either their mother or father. The titles were excused due to the fact everyone called them by the same name, despite relation. Though he'd always found it odd, he'd never really asked his mother why exactly they went out there to help the elderly couple clean the temple in preparation for more visitors. Soon, summer would be there. Summer was important because it brought tourists, lots of tourists. As summer began, everyone at the old shrine slowly became busier and busier. Visitors from the west were in awe from the beautiful Japanese shrines, but it wasn't as if they got that way overnight.

The weekend wasn't only to help fix up any problems that the shrine may've had, but also to visit with Baa-chan and Ji-san. They were kind to Yuuta, Yumiko, and Shuusuke, having been the type of couple that seemed to adore children. The shrine was a funny place. Rumored to be one of the oldest religious shrines in Oosaka, it stood proud, yet was made up of small buildings, ranging over acres on the mountainside, right were many sakura still bloomed. Having been so old, there were always problems that needed fixing, and paths that needed to be swept. Not to mention, the place was _crawling_ with stray cats, all of which Baa-chan and Ji-san cared for.

On the Tokyo-Oosaka line, Fuji sat. This train would be able to get them to Oosaka, something far across Honshu from Tokyo within a matter of hours. It was the fastest of its kind, traveling at amazing speeds. In fact, it was widely debated on whether or not it was faster than traveling by airplane. Colors were blurring past, including the silhouette of Mt. Fuji, today consumed by dark, gloomy storm clouds. On his left, his sister flicked through a women's magazine. A few rows back were Yuuta and his mother. His mother, currently occupied by the most recent romance novel, ignored Yuuta, who was slightly bored from reading his tennis magazine and had resorted to drumming his fingers on the window.

The kiss he had given Tezuka, still fresh in his mind from just early last week, still haunted him not only for what could've happened without Tezuka, but what would've happened if they were discovered. Resolved on not speaking with Tezuka about the matter, he decided to keep his distance. In the warm-up laps for the next few days, he kept firmly next to Eiji rather than jogging with Tezuka like he'd grown accustomed to doing. The captain didn't seem to be in a rush to bother Fuji. Rather, he hung back and jogged along, conversing with Oishi about their strategy for the next tournament, which would be coming up right after the next ranking match.

"Where are you going?" Tenshi had asked that earlier.

"My family and I are going to visit Ji-san and Baa-chan. We'll be helping them clean up the shrine they run."

"Are they related to you?"

"I don't know. Mother never really talks about them until it's time to go and help them clean the shrine. It doesn't seem so, though. I just think they used to be friends of my grandparents or something. Besides, that's the only time we visit them. On New Year's we've never celebrated with them or anything."

"I see."

Foreigners and Japanese alike clambered off the train in an almost tired manner when the train finally arrived in Oosaka. Fuji sniffed the air. He really didn't think anybody else could tell a difference, but he liked the smell of Oosaka. Well, at least, outside of Oosaka, in the mountains. Clinging close to his mother, they retraced a familiar route until they were in a cab, climbing the winding road on the mountainside with Yuuta staring out the window, looking particularly mortified about the height.

"Yuuta-kun" Fuji clapped his brother on the shoulder in an attempt to snap him out of his glassy-eyed trance. His mother was in the front seat, so she hadn't noticed his state, and next to him, Yumiko had her head down and her eyes closed. It could only be guessed that she was sleeping. Yuuta's eyes snapped back to him quicker than fire.

"What?" The tone was slightly rough, but he seemed to be grateful for his brother anyways.

"Are you okay, Yuuta-kun?"

"Of course I am." Yuuta went to look at his lap, but Fuji was able to take it as silent thanks. The dirt on the road ground beneath them, and Fuji looked over Yuuta's head to see the view of an Oosaka cityscape below, cast in a sort of mist because of their elevation.

"Oh, I am so glad to see you all." A thin, old woman came out, waving her arms in the air, the sleeves of her kimono blowing in the slight breeze. She, wearing a stark blue kimono, reminded Fuji of the epitome of tradition. She was willowy, thin, and graceful, though shorter than even Yuuta; Fuji had long since surpassed her in height. Then again, they were all required to wear traditional wear, here. Fuji and Yuuta wore the traditional men's attire, while Yumiko was clad in a delicate floral print and his mother in a plain light green kimono resembling Baa-chan's. Ji-san was slower on his entrance. Pushing open a door leading into one room, he exited slowly, his sandals clicking on the ground.

This man, small, yet very well built, was somebody that one wouldn't want to cross on bad terms, even in old age. Over the years he'd trained in various national and international martial arts styles, and it was obvious he was still a diligent participant, or at least he practiced it. As a child, Fuji had called him "Steel man," because he had such good balance that he was very hard to offset. They even used to play a game, where Fuji had to try and knock the man off his feet without being knocked down by Ji-san. Little as he would've guessed, the game helped Fuji's future tennis, even influencing his technique. Leaning against the trunk of a tree, he gave a friendly wave. "Ah, the Fuji family! It is great to see you all again. Your mother managed to get you out of school this time, right? You're early."

"Yes, Ji-san," their mother answered. "Fuji-kun and Yuuta-kun were able to get off school. Yumiko-chan was even allowed a few days off work." The family bowed formally to the couple.

"Well, it's delightful that we see you again! We're going to need plenty of help around here if we want this clean by the end of the weekend. It seems that there's so many things that need to be fixed that are just falling apart. First, though, I'm sure you're tired from your train ride. Come inside the house and have lunch with us.

The house itself was more modern. The person running the shrine years and years ago would've slept in one of the smaller rooms within the shrine itself. Built around forty years ago, the house accommodated guests well, though there weren't any Western-style beds. It wasn't as if Fuji minded sleeping on a mat on the floor, though. Sunlight filtered thought the treetops. Though this place was in the mountains, it wasn't far enough up that trees wouldn't grow. Fuji thought it was rather beautiful. There was a waterfall about a mile off from the main part of the shrine; he'd brought his camera so that he would be able to take pictures if there was any time to spare.

Tenshi was fascinated with Fuji's photography. He often told him that the photographs showed Fuji's talents well, and if it weren't for tennis, he really should join the art club. People would appreciate his photos, he said. Rather than being put on his bedroom wall, they should be displayed in art galleries and entered into art shows. For now, though, Fuji said he was perfectly happy with his tennis. That wasn't just because of Tezuka, either. Tennis was something he greatly enjoyed. Even if he never went pro, he would still have a special place in his heart for tennis.

"I made fish and rice today, dears. I hope that isn't too simple for you. We've been so busy that I haven't had any time to make anything else." She mentioned as they strode into the house. To a stranger, the place would've been very odd. Around the walls were different crystal balls, assortments of ancient decks of tarot cards, good luck charms from Africa and the middle east, and even an ancient-looking Ouija board, that although looked even more ancient than Ji-san.

Unlike some, that still embraced Japanese culture completely, Ji-san and Baa-chan were ardent for world cultures, whether it is American, European, or Middle Eastern. Baa-san liked to collect all sorts of good luck charms, things used to contact the supernatural, or and anything that was used to tell fortunes.

"Baa-san loves anything having to do with crystal balls," he had told Tenshi just a while ago, when explaining where he would be traveling for the weekend.

"Really? So she's into fortunes?"

"Yeah. It's amazing she still follows her religion. She reads palms, too." For a moment, Fuji paused. "When we were younger, Yumiko, Yuuta, and I pooled our money to get her a gift—well, it was Yumiko mostly, since she was old enough at the time that she had a job. We were too young for that. Anyways, we went to a pawn shop about two weeks before we went to visit her and looked if they had anything having to do with crystal balls."

Fuji was musing the story fondly. Though softly closed eyes, he recalled his childhood to Tenshi, though occasionally his eyelashes would flutter to look over at the man sitting near him, a sort of fondness radiating from his gaze. "We found the silliest thing. A foreigner must've dropped it off, and it had to be quite a few years old. Really, it wasn't a crystal ball. I believe it's that American holiday, Halloween, that it was made for. It was in the shape of its skull and the eyes lit up and spun. Then it gave the oddest laugh and said something I can't even remember about." Reaching his hand upwards as if to grasp something, his fingers sliced air. Looking at it pensively for a moment, he slowly withdrew his hand, letting a pleasant silence pass.

"Anyways, she laughed of course when we gave it to her. But to this day she still keeps it with her collection. She must've liked it, even though it wasn't very serious of a gift at all. That same day we were able to buy an English book. It was something like 'The Ghost of Flight 401' or something… We gave that to Ji-san. He loves books. He even speaks fluent English." That book had been written about a flight that had crashed in the Everglades. Interestingly enough, ghosts of the old flight crew began to appear on other planes when they reused parts from the wrecked plane.

There were entertaining stories of that place. They only visited once a year. Before Tenshi, almost nobody knew. Vividly, Fuji was able to remember events such as scuffles he and Fuji had gotten into, and funny situations in which Fuji had defended Yuuta against a horde of advancing stray cats. Yuuta swore they looked hungry enough to eat him, but was still thoroughly annoyed whenever Fuji decided to tease him about the matter.

Fuji had other things to worry about when he got back to school. Soon, the school would be over. He would be taking exams to help see where he would be going for high school. Slowly, he had to take the process over of choosing where he would be going for high school. It wouldn't be too much trouble. Fuji's grades were spectacular. Right now he was looking at Hyakugei, a school not very far outside of the city. It would be a little of a commute, but the school was known for the fact that second and third year students took a specialized art or photography class. That had been the main reason in his choosing it, but it also, ironically, had a great tennis team that Fuji was interested in as well.

Around the corner, though, he felt stress for the fact that he would be going to high school. He would be a lower classmen again. The school was tough to get into. Mostly, he was slowly beginning to worry about choices. Fuji loved his photography, and wanted to do more with it, but throughout Junior High, tennis had been very important to him. He didn't want to have to give that up either.

As if it would matter, but he felt like he would be torn away from Tezuka if he made the choice to give up tennis. All he could think was "at least Tenshi would be there." Support. Fuji closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Tenshi made for good support, even if he didn't appear so. Leaning against the wall, he let his head droop for a moment. If only he was here…

"Shuusuke-kun! Come to the table, the food's ready." To his surprise, his family was already sitting, waiting for him to sit down before they could eat. The fish tasted bitter in his mouth and the rice dry and flaky. It was odd, since Baa-chan was such a good cook. That, and Yuuta, Yumiko, and his mother seemed to not have any sort of problem with it. Even after drowning the food down with green tea, his throat was sore and dry. _What a perfect time to get sick…_was his last, sarcastic thought before he finished the dry-tasting rice and brought his bowl away from the table. When he stood up his legs were asleep. Cautiously, he teetered, testing his balance and strength.

"Shuusuke-kun, are you all right?" asked Baa-chan, drifting over to him and fussing with his shirtsleeve.

"I'm fine, thank you."

All he really wanted to do is see Tenshi, or mend things with Tezuka now that he thought about it.

"Shuusuke, I'll tell you what; I have a new deck of tarot cards, and I'd like to take your fortune shortly after lunch. Would you like to do that?" Fuji nodded. She smiled. "That's great. Let's go and do it now, since you're done with your lunch." Fuji was about to protest. After all, she hadn't eaten much.

"Don't worry about it," she added. "I ate a late breakfast this morning, so I'm not very hungry at all. We were up so late cleaning last night that I didn't wake up until later in the morning." He nodded and followed her into the living room, where she began dealing out the cards. Fuji had his fortune told by these tarot cards many times before by many, many different people. Always, it was pretty much the same. Fortune, good luck, and a happy future were in store. Baa-chan liked to do fortunes, so she even did Yumiko's sometimes. Yumiko had blushed once when she got the prosperity and love card, making Baa-chan predict she would soon have a husband and children.

She turned up a card. Frowning slightly, she said, "True love. You will experience true love soon." Smiling, she added, "You're awfully young for that, young man, just remember, don't be blind about it. You've got your whole life ahead of you, and love can either make or break that life. Please don't throw something away when things seem to be going wrong for you. Setting the tarot cards aside, she looked at him long and hard. That had been advice from her heart, from an old woman who had cared for him and his family for as long as he could remember.

"May I see you palm?" she asked out of the blue. Fuji blinked. Never before has she asked him for his palm. Sure, she'd read Yumiko's before, but Shuusuke didn't ever have his read. "I just want to see something… maybe it will help me understand your tarot card."

Thinking for a moment, Fuji answered, "Sure." Holding out his palm for her, he let the old lady take it.

"This is a very interesting hand," she said, observing it carefully with all her energy for a minute or two, squinting at it a few times and adjusting the glasses on the bridge of her nose. "Dear, your life will be ever changing. You have much fortune in store for you, but it will be very bumpy along the road. Tragedy is in store for you, so be careful whom you trust and that you always keep those you care for close to your heart. You never know when you can lose someone." Holding his hand close to her heart, she fell silent. Fuji, not being a palm reader, hadn't noticed she'd been eyeing the lines near his thumb extremely carefully.

"Go ahead, Shuusuke. There's work to be done. Then we can spend some time together later, okay? There are some paths that need to be swept. Why don't you go outside and do it. Don't hesitate to take a short break in between, but remember there's work to be done, so soon after you finish your first task to go and ask Ji-san about what he needs help with next.

The brilliant sunlight greeted him as Shuusuke walked along the path, carefully sweeping it. Over the ledge, Oosaka was visible, and off in the distance, the ocean sparkled. Truly, it was a beautiful place here. Fuji would have loved to be able to spend more time here. It was spiritual, and usually helped him relax his mind. At this time, there weren't many people here, though it wasn't uncommon for people to sometimes come by to worship at the shrine, ask for Ji-san's advice, or to ask the couple's help in performing a ritual. The sound was easily heard against the wooden decks, and it made him feel like he was back in ancient Japan. Clad in traditional gear and wooden sandals, he must've looked the part, too. It was quiet while he was sweeping petals from the sakura, dirt, dust, and dead leaves off the deck; he smiled and contemplated everything while he worked.

True love… 

Nowadays, Fuji could only scoff at it and go back to what he was doing. It wasn't good luck or fortune at all that he was destined to love. With that love came the deep, more carnal longing that bothered Fuji at almost all times of the night. After all, girly as he may have seemed at times, the real fact wouldn't ever change that he _was_ a guy.

With a sigh, he continued to sweep the path, a cloud of dust building around him. Fuji didn't even realize it until his nose began to run. Looking around him, he saw the dust settle slowly down onto the path. As if on cue, he sneezed loudly, groaning afterwards because of the path of dust that the cloud left.

True love, huh? It doesn't seem like that to me. More like a curse. I'll probably be cursed for life.

Morbid as those thoughts may have sounded, Fuji was amused slightly at the thoughts before he went back to sweeping. Slowly, life was going back to normal before he liked Tezuka. The intense, burning longing was still there; it was the longing that bothered him awake and asleep. As much as he willed it away, Fuji decided it was a normal part of life. Dislike it as much as he did, there was no way to resist, so he let it run it's course, only to pray to the gods above that one day he would finally be able to free himself from it. He spotted a shadow behind a tree, and almost paranoid, he said in a low voice, "Tenshi, if that's you, then come out." The idea of Tenshi being in Oosaka sounded like a joke to him, and wasn't something that he really felt like taking seriously.

Yet somehow, to his surprise, the light haired man strode out, gazing over at him with misty eyes. Fuji didn't know why he gave him that look. It was unlike Tenshi to be so somber. "You're getting better at noticing my presence, Shuusuke," he mentioned.

"It's more of an instinct," said Fuji truthfully. Really, it all becomes so obvious after a while." With a smile he gave a kind gaze towards the man. "It's nice to see you, Tenshi. Really, it is."

"Ah, so you're admitting it now! You miss me, don't you?" His accusations were teasing, and he gave Fuji a playful punch in the shoulder, nearly making Fuji drop the broom he held in hand. Fuji returned the playing gesture.

"Of course not." His voice feigned sternness. "Tenshi, you're a good friend. I'm just glad to be able to converse with you." The joke ended with that sentence, and he went back to sweeping the path. For a minute or two, the man watched him, his head following the back and forth motions of the broom on the ground.

"You're okay?" asked Tenshi, abruptly. For a moment, Fuji jumped at the question, as if it had startled him.

"Uh… Yeah, I'm fine." Tilting his head slightly at the odd and abrupt question, he began sweeping the pathway once again, unaware of the hand on his shoulder. Slowly, though, his eyes flickered back to it. Though he smiled, Fuji was visibly worried. Tenshi didn't normally act like this; he hadn't been normal for the past few weeks. That, and Tenshi's affectionate gestures had come to an abrupt halt. Now, in there absence, Fuji was beginning to realize that he really did miss them, though he had never noticed it before then.

"Are you okay, Tenshi? Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" Maybe his appointments with Suzuki-sensei were beginning to wear on him. Inwardly, Fuji groaned at the though, while his smile grew a fraction, the only gesture of kindness he would be able to show at the kind. For a moment, there was a mild silence. Up near an inclined path, Fuji's sensitive ears caught the slight shift of gravel.

"Of course! I'm dandy Fuji." Fuji may have shown unmatched cheeriness, but somehow, Tenshi often managed to beat him in it. Lashes fluttering for a minute, he exhaled happily. Yet somehow, in some odd way, Fuji thought that he was lying. Arching an eyebrow in disbelief, Fuji said nothing for just a moment, trying to figure out if there had been a hidden meaning behind what he said.

"You sure?" he queried, turning around to face the man, making the hand that was originally resting on his shoulder slip down to his arm.

"Yeah…"

A kiss brushed his lips, softly enough that had Fuji not been paying attention, he wouldn't have even noticed. His eyes were open now, slightly. Luminescent blue orbs looked confused slightly. Moving back so that Tenshi's hand broke contact with his arm, he said nothing, but didn't frown slightly as he might have in a normal situation. Fully quelled, he glanced once at Tenshi before going back to sweeping. Sometimes, life could be odd, but at least he had something rock solid in his life. His troubles evaporated, yet somehow, everything was still crumbling to pieces before him, and there was nothing that he could do to prevent it.


	8. Chapter 8

All disclaimers apply. This is an extra long chapter, since it's been so long since I updated. Enjoy, and please review. To Sedate- Chapter 8 "I want to show you something,"

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**To Sedate- Chapter 8**

"_Tenshi, what is it?"_

"_You'll see. Follow me." _

_That day, Fuji didn't know why he followed so blindly without asking any more questions. Since when he'd come to follow somebody so closely, he didn't know. But a fifteen-minute's walk from his home led him to a cemetery. Not just any cemetery, either, but a foreigner's cemetery. _

"_Why are we here, now?" Fuji had asked, raising an eyebrow in a questioning manner. Tenshi sat Indian-style net to a tombstone of what was probably a Russian foreigner. In English lettering, it read "Alexei Zhivago." Below, there was a proper Russian spelling, although Fuji wasn't able to read it. _

"_This is one of my favorite places to come," he mentioned. Fuji could only guess that this was where he went when he wasn't around him, which wasn't a lot. _

"_Why?" Queried Fuji. _

"_I don't know. It's peaceful here, though. Considering it's right by the street it's so quiet. Has a calm feeling about doesn't it?" _

"_Okay…" his voice trailed off, with a slight questioning tone to it. Maybe Fuji would've been more at ease if it weren't where dead people were buried, since many westerners preferred the ritual of burying the dead rather than cremating them. Not that Fuji had anything against it, but it was a little bit of an odd feeling about being around a place like this. After all, people loved to tell horror stories about creepy graveyards at night. Not that Fuji believed in ghosts or was scared, of course, but still… _

"_Sit," he said to Fuji. Cautiously, the light haired prodigy sat, careful not to lean against the tombstone that Tenshi was sitting right by. He looked up to the sky. Maybe Tenshi was getting at something, saying this was peaceful. One could forget about this being a cemetery, and the peacefulness quelled Fuji's usual worries." _

"_See, it is nice, isn't it?"_

"_Yeah, I guess so." _

"_How've things been going with Tezuka," he asked, testing the subject carefully since Fuji seemed to be pretty sensitive to it as of late. _

"_I think it's going pretty well. He hasn't said anything about how I kissed him." A gust of wind blew a few stray bangs into his field of vision, and Fuji didn't bother to brush them away. Shrugging of his thoughts slightly, he continued. "It's just like he simply…" Fuji paused in order to find the right word. "Forgot." _

_The sun set within an hour, and they were able to see the stars above. "Dazzling, isn't it Shuusuke?" asked a calm, kind voice. Their deep conversation taking place for the time being had quieted to idle chat, and pensively, Fuji looked up towards the sky and hugged his knees to his chest. _

"_Yes, it is."_

The day Tezuka, Fuji, and all the other third years would finally graduate came to an end as spring progressed, and with no more than a week of school left, they were all preparing to switch to new schools. "Parting is such sweet sorrow," would go for most of them. In the three years that they had been together, all the regulars had developed strong bonds. Fuji, at the last minute decided to switch to a closer high school to save the commute, although his school was still thirty minutes' train ride from home. As a plus, Tezuka was going there. After all, the school was known for its excellent tennis coach, along with the fact the club was very large with around a hundred members.

It was a good school, Fuji supposed. He couldn't complain about it at all, in fact. His main motive for going there hadn't been for that. Nowadays, everything seemed to be for Tezuka. Emotions didn't last; at least, that was what Tenshi had told him once; the school would get him where he needed, though. Happily, he would go there. The temptation of going overseas to study, though, was a temptation. Somehow, Fuji felt like he needed to get out of Japan. That would be a much-needed break from all these stresses.

On the last day the third years would be attending practice, it was as normal as anything would have been. They ran warm-up laps; Tezuka was reprimanding some of the freshmen for fooling around and then being ordering them to run punishment laps. Behind closed eyes, Fuji smiled, not at all affected by anything around him that day.

Practice had gone downhill, though, today. With his head turned down, eyes wide open, and a cool frown on his face, he didn't appear to be quite normal. Rather, he was slightly ruffled. Already, he'd missed quite a few shots that he should've been able to return. Kaidoh, bouncing the ball on the opposite court, hissed. The second year was able to sense that Fuji should've been able to return volleys, but wasn't succeeding in doing so. However, it would've been off-topic to mention it during practice matches, especially since he should assume that Fuji was just having a bad day.

Kachiro and Horio had paused in their activities to watch this, Horio with his hands on his hips talking about which person had the upper hand in the match. Really, it shouldn't have matter, since these weren't ranking matches. However, something was wrong with the picture.

With his stance slightly off-balance, one might've had the impression that Fuji could only see out of one eye, or had limited vision in both. The way he strained to see, squinting against the sunlight for a minute in order to get a better view of Kaidoh was so unlike him that it attracted Tezuka's attention. Behind him stood Echizen, bouncing a tennis ball up and down with his racket. Clear golden eyes observed Fuji for a moment, but seeing as Tezuka was occupying enough attention on Fuji already, he went back to what he had been doing.

A second, sweeping glance at Fuji would tell even those not familiar with him that he was a little too focused than he usually was. Their practice match wasn't competitive at all, though it would've been different had Fuji been Momoshiro. One more acquainted with him would say he should be smiling, looking more carefree. Fuji didn't get serious until he was actually competing, or something was put at stake. Had he been able to focus long enough, he probably would've ended up slamming the ball so that it landed squarely next to the net on Kaidoh's side. Now, the tennis ball seemed to evade his reach. Keeping his racquet close to his chest, he dashed forward towards the opposite side of the court where he judged the ball would end up. When he swept his racquet for a backhand, though, it met only air. Dimly, he recognized the feeling of the ball skimming his shoulder; it bounced twice before rolling off in another direction.

"Don't let your guard down," Tezuka called over to him. Obviously, the captain had been surveying their match closely without the two knowing. It was Kaidoh's serve, and this time Fuji made a mad dash for it, probably running faster than his legs were able to carry him. Heads turned at the audible sound of the tennis racquet coming into contact with the ball. This time, Fuji had put far too much power behind it, because it simply whizzed over Kaidoh's head and sailed clear over the fence before landing far off on the school lawn. The tensai, at the same time collapsed to his knees with his right hand trembling slightly. Kachiro, taking a glance at his senpais, went to retrieve the ball from the lawn while Horio stared wide-eyed at Fuji and Kaidoh.

"Fuji, come here!" Groaning mentally, Fuji picked himself up to his feet and gathered his thoughts. Trotting over to Tezuka, he smiled.

"Na, buchou, is there something you would like?"

"I want to talk to you," he said. "Echizen!" he called over to the freshman that had previously been training with the captain. "Go and practice with Kaidoh for now." Large, catlike eyes blinked back. Echizen lowered his cap a fraction and went off in the Viper's direction.

"What is it, Tezuka-kun?" Fuji asked, in almost too pleasant of a voice for Tezuka's ears. The tone seemed like nails on a chalkboard to him, he frowned and winced visibly. Sometimes, it made Fuji wonder. He'd always been very good at concealing his emotions with smiles and pleasant expressions. Only on the court was he allowed to show his competitive edge, where he could either have fun with the match, or defeat the person totally and completely if he wished it. Tezuka led him in the direction of the clubhouse, excusing himself politely when he passed Ryuuzaki-sensei.

"Fuji, you've been acting odd for a while. You've been letting your guard down," Tezuka began carefully. Now, he wasn't the best at expressing his thoughts in words, but he'd decided that he needed to try it. This odd behavior of Fuji's had gone unnoticed for too long, and now it was affecting his performance. Tezuka wasn't one to pry, but he worried not only for Fuji's tennis, but also for Fuji's health. With the lack of success in performance, Fuji made it up by pushing himself harder. Only those who had known him for a long time and were looking closely could tell that he was lagging.

"I think you're imagining things, Tezuka." That was a complete and utter lie. They stopped by the door entering into the clubhouse. Tezuka opened the door and motioned for him to go inside. His terse silence told Fuji enough, that the captain didn't believe it. To defend himself, he said, "Well, I've been a little ill. You know the springtime. Everybody gets sick at one time or another.

"Why won't you tell anyone what's wrong?" Fuji almost clenched his fists in anger and screamed. What Tezuka said was uncannily like what Suzuki-sensei told him time after time again, enough to make him want to punch Tezuka in the face. It was so unlike him, too. The only time Fuji ever got violent towards somebody was during a match. Lowering his head slightly, he said nothing for just a minute. Distantly, he felt like something had snapped. He broke off with a reply, bitter and cool, so unlike him in every way that Tezuka was frightened by it.

"It's always 'why' and 'what'," Fuji said, his voice ice cold. "So, I have something to ask you: Why don't you leave me alone. Maybe I don't want people to know what's bothering me. Who said you were entitled to know, anyways? After all, you aren't exactly the one to talk about _your _problems." If he hadn't seen Fuji's mouth move, Tezuka wouldn't have believed Fuji would ever say something like that. He must've struck a nerve, and struck it hard. Fuji's words cut him worse than expected although it didn't really show visually. He did shift slightly backwards, though.

"Fuji…" He said, evenly, occupying himself by cleaning his glasses. He swiped the lightweight cleaning cloth over the lenses by memory, with his eyes closed lightly as if he was reminiscing something. "It's my job as the captain to keep everyone together." _You've been growing farther and farther from everyone. We need to be teammates. _There was nothing in reply to that the prodigy was able to say that. It _was _Tezuka's job to help maintain a team structure. However, it wasn't his job to meddle. He wanted to tell him that, but his mouth remained in a firm, straight line instead.

_Was it because of the kiss that Fuji grew farther apart from everyone in the first place?_

Tezuka had never mentioned the kiss to anyone, not even Fuji. He wanted to be able to deny it, and discussing would just be bringing it up again and again. He didn't realize how callous it seemed not to even mention anything about it to Fuji afterwards, although there wasn't anything to talk about. It had been a kiss, and they shouldn't have done it. At least, Tezuka thought they shouldn't have done it. He wasn't sure of anything about Fuji anymore. He remained staring coolly at Fuji. Obviously, he wasn't planning on letting the boy go until he had answers. Fuji only remained firmly stubborn for a few minutes, before he felt a need to break the extremely uncomfortable silence between them. Fuji couldn't stand it, though Tezuka seemed to be coping with said silence just fine.

"I've been a little distracted. With applying for high school and everything I've been really stressed about things. I'm going to miss junior high." So, this was part of the truth, but it wasn't the truth Tezuka sought. He sought the truth that Fuji hadn't told everyone else, the truth that just wasn't a mask to cover the one that he didn't want people to see. Really, he didn't think that Fuji did it on purpose. Like his appearance of being emotionless, he thought of Fuji's masks just as something habitual. However, habits could be one of the most bothersome things sometimes. More silenced passed between them, then…

How had Fuji Shuusuke, the strong, talented young man he'd gotten to know in his three years of attending Seishun Gakuen reach this point? Tezuka didn't want to believe it simply because this wasn't the Fuji everyone knew. This wasn't the Fuji that he wanted to know.

"You didn't hurt yourself when you tripped, did you? Maybe you should go to the nurse just to be safe." He added, on a lightly concerned note. Fuji chuckled slightly.

"No, I'm fine. There's no need for concern, Tezuka. The worst I will have is a slight bruise."

"I must've had the wrong idea. My apologies, Fuji." Tezuka turned to pick up some forms on the desk Ryuuzaki-sensei had asked him to retrieve when he was done with his conversation. "Come out whenever you're ready. Just don't take too long, and don't let your guard down again." That sounded a little bit more like normal Tezuka. Not having expected that Tezuka would believe it, since nobody else who had asked seemed to, he blinked for a moment, stunned.

Like a rope, tugging him towards Tezuka, Fuji unwillingly took a step forward. "Wait a minute, Tezuka." Remembering Tenshi's advice, Fuji paused. They would be going to a much larger school next year, so if Fuji needed to avoid them, he would be able to, even during tennis club. Tezuka turned back to him, watching him carefully. "There is actually something else I'd like to talk to you about." Fuji paused, looking round the room as the smile he normally wore returned to his face.

"Can you walk home with me? I'd like to talk to you about it then. We should probably be getting back to practice anyways, shouldn't we?" Swallowing softly, he watched as Tezuka nodded. At least that was the good thing about Tezuka. Unlike with his demand for laps, he didn't seem very demanding on this subject at all. It wasn't in Fuji's style to procrastinate, if what he was doing could even be considered as procrastination. However, in a struggle to find a proper way to really saying it without giving Tezuka a great shock, he thought about how he needed more time.

"Very well, then." The atmosphere was warm today, and all the trees were a beautiful green. That was why Fuji loved the spring. It symbolized new beginnings. The sakura were gone, and Fuji felt a sadness fill him. Unlike how he'd hoped to be able to go see the sakura with him, it never happened. Perhaps it was just that he procrastinated always when it came to his feelings with Tezuka. That needed to come to an end, he though. Eiji was waving off to him in the distance, practicing with his doubles partner, Oishi. For once, standing at Tezuka's side, he was able to let go of his worries and smile without a care once again.

Tezuka gave him a look backwards. "Remember never to let your guard down," he added once again. Tezuka's face was always straight-set, but for just the fraction of a second, he was able to swear that he saw just a tiny inkling of a smile on Tezuka's face. This was a rarity indeed, and in his three years of knowing Tezuka, he'd only seen the boy smile once.

The rest of the practice was uneventful, with Fuji straining his eyes for signs of Tenshi. The man appeared a little bit before practice ended, and Tezuka dismissed them. "Fuji," he called a little after most everyone had filtered off the courts and into the clubhouse to change. He seemed not to want Fuji to ignore the fact that they'd agreed to walk home together.

"I'm going to miss the tennis club when we leave, Tezuka," Fuji mentioned as they walked. Today Fuji chose to take the long way home, by walking. It would take a lot longer of a time than taking either train or bus, but sometimes it didn't matter. Today, he supposed, just once more, he could take extra time to speak with Tezuka. Their school would be larger when they went to high school, so there was no guaranteeing that they would see each other very often. Tezuka must have sensed it, too. "What about you, Tezuka? Are you going to miss it?"

"Yeah, I suppose," he replied, pensively. That was Tezuka, never saying much more than was needed. They paused at a crosswalk as the cars passed, waiting for their turn to cross. Something odd caught his eye, a flash of color at the top of a building, perhaps. Unconsciously, he ventured forward slightly. Tezuka, with his eyes focused ahead, didn't seem to notice him.

Reality hit him, almost like a ton of lead right in the center of a chest. Fuji's gaze snapped forward. Distantly, a woman screamed, and Tezuka leapt forward. In slow motion, Fuji felt the collision; almost too painfully as everything feel silent. There was the sensation of weightlessness, before he collided painfully with the pavement, fast and hard. The crowd could only watch as the boy, only a random stranger, skidded some ways across asphalt before coming to rest just before the intersection began.

Yet, to Fuji a process that took only seconds was slowed. There was a searing pain in his side to start out with, and there was a force that pulled him backwards. As he sailed through the air for just a minute, he couldn't breathe nor move. He hit the pavement harder than he expected to, skidding painfully across it. A splitting pain tore across his head before enveloping his entire body. Though feeling the need to scream, his voice was caught within his throat. The last thing his eyes focused properly on was Tezuka, before his vision blurred and he came to a stop, his breathing shallow and erratic. He coughed explosively, red blood dotting the street. While he flew, Fuji could've sworn he heard a voice cry above the crowd. "Shuusuke!" Nobody seemed to notice it, but the sound nearly split Fuji's eardrums.

"Fuji, what the hell?" Doing probably the stupidest thing he'd ever done in his life, he raced past the cars now stopped, looking disbelievingly at the teenaged boy who had ventured into the crosswalk and had been hit as a result of it.. Dimly, he was aware that the pavement was dyed a sticky red. Fuji lay in a crumpled heap, only barely conscious. His shirt was torn where the car initially hit him, and already, the area was a sickly yellowish-green, with the traces of black blue already beginning to appear at the edges. Fuji's head, which must've hit the pavement hard, had a large cut from the forehead to the back of his left ear, bleeding like crazy. His arms, scraped and bruised from the weak attempt to protect himself with, looked to be in pretty bad condition as well. Tezuka surveyed Fuji. How could he still be conscious? With his teeth clenched and a heart-wrenching look of pain on his face, it was obvious that Fuji was very much hurt by this. For once, was begging Fuji to say something, anything, but the only time Fuji's lips moved was when he struggled to take a breath.

A car door opened, and the women who hit Fuji stepped out. Tezuka gave her a look. She stumbled slightly, pressing a finger to her lips and looking at the bloody scene before her, when all of the sudden she began to sob. She was just a young one, probably just out of high school. "I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to; he stepped right out in front of me and I tried to stop… but… but…" She stammered and broke into tears, coming closer to the boy while the crowd stared at her. Clutching the air, she faltered and stumbled a little, looking as if she was about to faint. Hiding her face with her hands, she collapsed to her knees, still crying. It was obvious that she wasn't very talented at all when it came to handling emergency situations.

"Someone take action," a man was saying, while the women sobbed hysterically.

"Is there a doctor here, is there a doctor?" A crowd was growing around Fuji, and all traffic had stopped. A silence fell among them, and Tezuka reached out to touch Fuji to see if he was able to get a response from Fuji. There was a pained groan, and Tezuka quickly withdrew his hand.

"Somebody call an ambulance! The boy is hurt badly!" Tezuka, at this point thought he was going to crazy, that with all the yelling, and the women sobbing in the background about how it was all her fault. God, this had to have happened to a friend, a teammate. Tezuka's fist slowly clenched. All of this was such a blur to Tezuka that he wondered if Fuji was able to here any of it, or if he was too much in pain to notice anything else. Somebody was on the phone with the hospital, but Tezuka could already tell that the ambulance would never make it with traffic backed up. Yet, it was a risk to move Fuji, and it would be hard to get traffic moving again with him there.

"Shouldn't we move him so he isn't on the street?" a teenaged girl asked a man. The man sighed and rubbed his temples, probably getting a headache from all the chaos.

"No. If he has broken bones it isn't a hard thing to make the injury worse. Moving him should be left to the professionals so that he doesn't get worse. The kid's in a bad enough shape already"

A man came up to Tezuka and touched his shoulder. "Excuse me, young man, do you know him? Do you know his phone number so that we're able to contact his family?" With a rather dry throat, Tezuka nodded to the man, only receiving a sympathetic gaze from him. "He's your friend, isn't he?" Words didn't need to describe it, and he knew. "Try and have faith. Here, you can call his family if you want to. I will, if you'd rather not." He was being offered a cell phone, and Tezuka took it, nodding slightly.

"Thank you," Tezuka's voice was calm, but his voice felt so dry, and he felt so desperate. It took him a few seconds to remember Fuji's number, but soon he dialed and put the phone up to his ear. Yet after a few rings, it seemed hopeless, nobody was home and Tezuka only got an answering machine. "Fuji-san," Tezuka began, feeling enormously burdened making this call. "This is Tezuka Kunimitsu calling to let you know that you son's been hit by a car… Fuji Shuusuke. He'll be taken to the hospital, but I don't know what they're going to do with him. If you'd like to know what's happening, please call the hospital. Thank you. Goodbye." Even after he gave a polite farewell, it took Fuji a few minutes to hang up the phone.

Traffic had started moving again, aside from the lane Fuji lay in since they weren't able to move him. There was a delicate silence, the woman sobbing, and people seeing what they were able to do to help. Some others stayed huddled together, horrified by seeing the boy actually be hit by the car. That wasn't a sight that anyone deserved to see or experience, ever.

"Fuji," Tezuka said under his breath. He wondered if Fuji was even conscious or not. His breathing was very hard to detect. It came in soft, shallow bursts, and his chest didn't seem to have much of a rhythm to it. To iterate, rather than the normal rise and fall, the breathing was labored, and Tezuka was very worried.

Fuji winced slightly, but Tezuka would claim later he turned his head ever so slightly towards Tezuka. "Te… Te-zu…" Truthfully, Tezuka wasn't able to tell if Fuji was speaking his name. The 'zu' was so soft that it sounded more like 'suu' than anything, fading into the gentle spring breeze. Letting his breath go, Tezuka's eyes fell shut. Fuji's voice was racked with pain, and it really did a number on him, seeing his friend like this. Tezuka wanted to beg Fuji not to speak, because he could see tears brimming Fuji's eyes at the attempt. For some reason, though, he didn't.

"You okay?" Tezuka knew there was nothing okay about the situation, but he was just trying to make the best of the situation.

Fuji, felt he'd die. His body, racked with pain, was badly damaged and it would be a miracle if he were to live. Not that he expected to, though. All he really was glad for was that Tezuka was here. Now if only Tenshi could be… He tried to smile, but the muscles in his face didn't seem to be working.

"Love ya," his voice, weak and soft, collapsed to the point where he couldn't speak anymore, and finally, Tezuka got the thoughts from Fuji, the thoughts that he was truly going to die. His hand went down to Fuji's shoulder in a tight grip, his teeth gritted harshly. His voice, caught in his throat, beckoned him to say something, but whenever he tried his throat constricted painfully. Fuji didn't seem to mind, but this time he wasn't smiling, but he hadn't given up attempting to. Why was that?

_I'm going to die…_

"Fuji!" Tezuka felt the need to curse.

Sirens broke over the noise of the crowd. Somebody must have called an ambulance, because it was here. Coming to a stop right near the middle of the intersection and thus halting the flow of traffic once again, the paramedics rushed out with a stretcher. The crowd dispersed, all except for Tezuka. "Can anybody here give me the kid's name?" one of them asked.

"Fuji Shuusuke," he said, making them look over to him.

"Would you like to come with him to the hospital? Are you his friend?" Tezuka hesitated slightly for a moment. He really should've been heading home, because his parents were probably expecting him. Then again, he could always contact them at the hospital, and he really felt like he needed to come with.

"Yes. May I?"

"You may."

The ride to the hospital seemed to take forever, with Tezuka gazing out the window darkly. When they got there Tezuka was made to sit in the waiting room while Fuji was wheeled off somewhere to be evaluated, but Tezuka was even more so worried. Fuji was having trouble breathing. The paramedics already said he certainly had at least a few broken ribs and a sprained ankle at the least. However, they did mention the damage could end up being a lot worse, and for once in his life, Tezuka was truly frightened for it. What was going to happen to Fuji?

Fuji's mother, Yuuta, and Yumiko came filtering through the door, all at once. Tezuka tried not to make eye contact, his eyes dark and grave behind his glasses. "Tezuka-kun…" A soft voice made him look up, to see the women he knew to be Fuji's mother standing before him, tears in her eyes.

"Thank goodness you were there, Tezuka-kun." A sob escaped her mouth, and she slouched next to him, putting her arms around him. Tezuka didn't stiffen nor say anything. She was going through a rough time, and so was she. He didn't have the heart to push her away.

"Thank you so much, I am glad that at least… At least…" She paused to blow her nose with a tissue from the box on the side table. "At least he wasn't alone. He cares about you, you know." The statement hit him hard, and with his head lowered, he said nothing. Throat and mouth dry, he nodded. "Thank you for calling us, too."

"It was the only thing I was able to do," he said softly, while she cried on his shoulder. Tezuka wasn't able to do anything to comfort her. Yumiko looked very upset, and on the verge of tears herself. Even Yuuta, the brother that seemed to despise his brother from overshadowing him, was obviously shaken up and extremely worried.

"Fuji-san," a nurse called to her, walking out into the waiting room with a clipboard in hand. "I'd appreciate if you and your family would come with me and speak about your son's condition, please." Tezuka tried to follow along, but the nurse stopped him. "I'm sorry, but this is patient confidentiality. We're only allowed to tell family. It is Fuji-san's choice if she wants to tell you or not. Not showing his dejection, he went back to his previous seat, with his sleeve still soaked from Fuji's mother's tears.

She came out, and the family filed out in silence. "Tezuka-kun, the nurse says that we may go visit Shuusuke now. Would you like to come with us?"

"One minute, I need to call my parents," he said to them. He'd seen a payphone outside, and luckily he'd brought with him the phone card his parents had given him in case of emergencies. With shaky fingers, he dialed his home number.

"Moshi moshi, Tezuka residence." The voice on the other line answered. It was his mother's voice.

"Mother, I'm at the hospital right now. I wanted to let you know I won't be home for a while at least." There was a pregnant pause, then his mother's panicked voice across the phone.

"Kunimitsu, what happened? Is something wrong?" Tezuka hesitated, trying to find words for what he was trying to say.

"My friend Fuji was hit by a car. The nurses are allowing us to visit him first, and if it isn't a problem I'd really appreciate if I could visit him for a while before coming home. I don't know how he is now, but earlier…" Tezuka took a deep breath. "He was in bad shape earlier."

"Your friend Fuji? Oh, I'm so sorry, Kunimitsu." The voice was softer over his ears, more concerned. "Yes, you may stay. Tell you what; I'll pick you up in two hours, okay. Visit with your friend until then."

"Yes mother. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Tezuka hung up the phone.

"Excuse me, miss?" He asked at the main desk. She turned and smiled toward him. Tezuka didn't have Fuji's room number, and he needed directions. After all, this was a very large hospital. "Can you please tell me which room Fuji Shuusuke is in? I'd like to see him, if there isn't a problem."

"Sure, give me a minute." She typed a few things into her computer, and answered a few minutes later. "Fuji Shuusuke is in room 301. Take the stairs until the third floor, and his room will be right there in front of you."

"Thank you." Tezuka answered, following her directions.

It was an odd scene before him, since this was probably the first time in his life that Tezuka had ever needed to deal with emergencies firsthand. It gave a shock to his heart, and he felt like he could've done something to prevent the picture before him. Seeing Fuji actually get hit by a car was something that would be burned into his memory forever. Swallowing, he took a seat at the bedside. Fuji was still unconscious, but at least straightened out a little bit. On his side, he had a heart rate monitor and an IV, running to his wrist. Really, he'd never seen Fuji this weak before. It was almost frightening, suffocating. Before him, Yuuta was holding Fuji's hand, looking as if he'd forgotten past anger.

"Tezuka, you would still like to know what exactly is going on with Shuusuke, right?" Fuji's mother asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Yes."

"They're going to be moving him up to ICU in ten minutes. They need a doctor to see him soon, but from what the nurses are telling me, he at least has three broken ribs and damage to his right lung." So, that was probably where the difficulty breathing came in. "He's probably got other injuries, too, but they're mostly worried about internal bleeding and such right now." She paused and wiped her eyes. "That car must have hit him fast… what was… what was he thinking?" She put her hands up to her eyes and sobbed softly, and Tezuka could see the gravity of the situation easily, why everyone was so worried. She needed not say that there was a good chance Fuji would either be permanently injured from this, as long as he didn't die. Tezuka had always been a mature person, but now he cringed at death, and prayed that Fuji would be spared from it. _Please… he's too young to have this happen to him._ Perhaps the begging wasn't going to help, but Tezuka had nothing else to do. He wanted so badly to do something to help; yet, all he could do was watch Fuji while he lay there. It was maddening.

"Tezuka-kun, thank you so much for being there and coming to the hospital with him," She said. "I don't know if you think it matters, but Shuusuke was always so friendly… even when he was in pain, I think he was glad that he had a friend there, at his side." She tried to smile, but failed. Now Tezuka knew where Fuji inherited the smiling mask. "That's what really should matter, right? As long as Shuusuke is happy… we should be glad for him." Tezuka didn't know he'd like that. Even if he had to see Fuji cry once, it would make up for seeing him lying in a bed like this, in extreme pain and on the brink of death.

"I guess so…" His voice showed that he didn't really believe it. Brushing a hand over Fuji's lightly bandaged head, brushing a few light-colored bangs way, he sighed. Fuji didn't' even respond under his touch like he hoped him to. _God Fuji, why are you doing this to me? Just wake up and be okay. I don't want to have to see this anymore. I don't want you to be in pain; I don't want you to…_

His thoughts stopped abruptly, and he removed his hand from Fuji's forehead. Licking the roof of his mouth lightly to moisten it, he paused and looked to the side of him. For just a second, just a second he could've sworn that there was somebody standing right next to him, a person whom had mimicked his thoughts completely. He must've really been going crazy, because nobody was there, and none of the Fuji family seemed to notice, either.

_Fuji, please don't die…_

* * *

Edit: Somebody just pointed out to me that I had Fuji's mother calling Shuusuke 'Fuji' at one point. This wasn't intentional... This is what I get for writing at midnight. Anyways, I thought I scanned over it well, but in my fatigue I might've missed something. Please, if I did, tell me. Anyways, I give many thanks to Lu for catching my mistakes.

I'm not very proud of this chapter at all, but this was supposed to have happened for a while. I'm not taking victims of this lightly at all. I'm sorry I didn't update sooner. Last weekend, I was visiting extended family. It was a four-hour train ride to get there and I was too busy spending time with family to do anything. This week, I had all kinds of band practices and a concert. So, apologies to everyone, and thanks for all your kind reviews.

A few quick notes:

Maybe it seems like I exaggerated the reaction of the crowd, but it's true. When you see somebody get hit by a car, or you see the reactions of loved ones is enough to affect you for life. Trust me, if you see somebody get hit by a car right before your very eyes, you're not going to forget it, even if you never met this person in your life.

ICU- Instant care unit; in hospitals, people in critical conditions or unstable conditions are placed here for appropriate care.

The injuries- I don't personally know about injuries to humans in the event of being hit by a car. I used a lot of my knowledge on animals for the subject and just applied it in that way. If anyone spots any sort of discrepancy, please tell me so that I can fix it.


	9. Chapter 9

Again, all the disclaimers apply. I don't own Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama by any means, so please don't sue me. The plot is mine, as are the characters made up by me. I really do hate making this so depressing, so I apologized in advance for that. Thank you, everyone who sent me their kind reviews, and I give special thanks to Lu who pointed some of my mistakes out quickly, and I was able to fix them. I always appreciate something like that. I do try and spell-check these things, but since I don't have a beta and my mind tends to wander, these things often slip through. Enjoy the chapter.

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**To Sedate- Chapter 9**

_Am I staring at death, right in the face? _

_No, not quite yet you aren't. _

_Then what is this blinding light and extraordinary pain that's here… yet, fading away? _

_I don't know._

_I hope it'll end soon. _

"We want to do a few tests, Fuji-san." The doctor was telling Fuji's mother. "Your son is in a bad condition, and we need to know what sort of condition he's in, exactly. I've already got approval for x-rays and an MRI. The x-rays will help us in detecting the broken bones. If he does indeed have broken ribs, we'll need to do surgery, and there's a very good chance he has a broken leg. I don't think that his arms are anything more than bruised and scraped, but it wouldn't hurt to check. Since Fuji-kun hit his head, we'll check to see if there's normal brain activity, too." The doctor was filling her in now, for the second time this night. Fuji had been moved out of his temporary room and into ICU. Tezuka and the rest of the Fuji family hadn't been allowed to come along, so now the doctor was briefing them all in a private waiting room. Tezuka, with permission from the entire family, was allowed to stay to hear it.

"What if it ends up that Shuusuke has brain damage?" She interrupted, not meaning to interrupt, but so concerned that she hadn't thought of it. "Will my son be normal again? Shuusuke would never want to live a half-life. I know that much."

"There's a chance that there's minor head trauma, or perhaps something more serious. We must deal with it as it comes," the doctor stated gravely before continuing.

"We'll check for internal bleeding, that bruise on his side is what I'm worried about. That indicated he most likely has some fractures of the ribs, and possibly massive internal bleeding. You see, sometimes it isn't what's on the outside that makes the condition so critical, but ruptured organs, and internal bleeding." They all nodded. Fuji and Yumiko's eyes were red, but they hadn't been crying for a while. Meanwhile, Yuuta sniffed in a corner, trying to keep himself from doing so. They were all so worried, despite attempts at being positive. The doctor paused, and placed his hands firmly in his lap.

"Fuji-san, I don't want to sound morbid, but I'm not able to lie to you. You deserve to know the truth. This is probably up your son, whether or not he lives, I mean. He's injured to the point where there's only so much we're able to do for him. I think you should count yourselves lucky that he's still alive, and that you were able to see him before then. However, in these cases, it's truly up to the victim if they survive or not. Some people just don't want to live anymore. That, or they're just already convinced that they're going to die, so they don't try at all. I've seen miracles happen, miracles that were only possible because of the will of the patient. It's amazing what willpower will do for a person."

Fuji had always been a very strong person, no doubt about it. Something in Tezuka made him fear for Fuji's life, though. What always happened in movies when the main character was dying? That must be like those tragic Greek heroes they had discussed in school a few years ago. In movies, the character always ended up confessing something in the end, and with a sinking heart, Tezuka realized that the confession had been aimed at him. That was the last thing Fuji wanted to know, possibly the last words that Fuji Shuusuke would ever speak. An unimaginable pain tore through his chest at this thought.

A few moths back, Tezuka could easily imagine Fuji getting through this. The light-haired one, who always smiled and wasn't easily wounded, was a very tough target if one chose to try and hurt him. A person choosing to harm him without knowing the risks almost always would've found that Fuji bit back. Hard. Within a calm, smiling exterior was a strong young man that wasn't easily deceived. Slowly, though, Tezuka was forced to bear witness to the slow decay of Fuji's confidence.

"Please, though, never give up hope. Keep your fingers crossed. I'll do everything I can do to help your son recover, and once that happens, it's up to Fuji to do his best to get back on his feet. There's a chance it'll be a challenge. There'll probably be at least a few months of physical therapy involved, and that's saying if his injuries don't exceed physical ones."

"Yes," said Shuusuke's mother, in a hoarse tone of voice. "Thank you so much for your help, Sakamoto-sensei." The doctor left, and a silence settled over them all. Obviously, they were all still trying to cope with the fact that the one they cared for so much might be dead very soon, and that there wasn't anything they would be able to do in order to prevent it. All in the room bowed their heads low in respect. All Tezuka could do is pray that he and the rest of the Seigaku regular wouldn't be visiting Fuji's grave in the end.

"I need to get back up to ICU. Thank you very much for your time, Fuji-san."

"Thank you for everything you've done, Sakamoto-sensei." They all exited the room they'd been sitting in and went their separate ways. Now it was getting late, the hospital was getting emptier. The emergency ward had been packed, but this was the treatment side. Most people visiting had gone home for the night, and the nurse and doctors were attending to patients. Though it was far past dinner time, Tezuka didn't have very much of an appetite, and he was almost glad that he didn't.

"Tezuka-kun, if you aren't getting any sort of ride home, I'll drive you if you need it," was the offer that Fuji's mother made next.

"No, my mother's going to pick me up soon. Thank you for the offer though, Fuji-san." His voice was cordial, yet distant. His tone confirmed his mood. With his eyes forcibly downcast, and a dark expression brewing on his face, one was able to tell what sort of thoughts were running through his head at the moment. Tezuka had to collapse at this one moment, breathing for air. At all other times, people relied on him, as a captain, to remain strong and never show any sort of weakness. After all this, he'd fallen into the habit and spent so much energy on trying to keep a straight face, while letting Fuji's mother cry on his shoulder, that he was emotionally exhausted. A teenager in junior high could only take so much.

"Then I can at least wait for you until your mother picks you up, Tezuka-kun."

"You don't have to," Tezuka said. "I don't want to be a burden."

"Nonsense, you aren't causing any trouble. Besides," she paused for a moment and brushed a few strands out of her face. "After all this, I know that Shuusuke would want that you had somebody to stay with until you were picked up." In the midst of it all, she must've forgotten her own weariness, all in such intense focus on her son. She put took Tezuka's hand and clasped it for a moment. Perhaps the gesture was out of place, and not very much welcomed, but she soon enough let go.

"You're a very kind young man, and I'm glad you were here tonight, Tezuka-kun," she said, with an odd sort of finality. "I want you always to remember to be sure of the choices you make. Don't waste away on life just because you're in pain from something. Live it to the fullest and never put your mother through what I've had to go through tonight. Nobody on earth, no matter how horrid, deserves that." There was a final pause. "A mother shouldn't have to bury her child, don't you think?" That was a very pensive remark, but Tezuka could tell the significance behind it, the wish begging the deities above that her son would be spared from a common, yet undesired fate. There was a sob. "A mother never wants to bury her own child, trust me. She… loves her son far too much to ever be able to have the strength to do it."

"No, Fuji-san, I don't think that-"

"Kunimitsu," a voice called across the lobby towards him. His mother made her way towards him, holding an umbrella with her hair slightly wet. "Sweetie, I hope you're doing alright?" The women fussed slightly over her son, probably due to the fact she had been worried. Had it not been for the fact that his friend was in the hospital, she would've brought him home sooner.

"I'm fine." His remark seemed almost a little too emotionless, even for Tezuka. Frowning slightly at the flat reply, she turned to the woman standing next to Tezuka.

"You must be Fuji-kun's mother. Thank you so much for allowing my son to stay." She smiled genuinely at her. "How is Fuji-kun doing?" It might have been expected that Fuji's mother would've been more upset, but now she seemed to have a firm grip on herself, and didn't fail in putting on the trademark "Fuji smile." Tezuka's mother, not having known the two wouldn't have worried, but with all that had been happening with Fuji as of late, it sent up a red flag in Tezuka Kunimitsu's brain.

"He's doing great. I am very glad your son was able to stay with us. He truly is a remarkable boy." Tezuka stood there along with Yumiko and Yuuta as the two women made polite, almost rehearsed conversation, with both of them speaking gently before bidding farewell. Finally, Tezuka was pulled away from the Fuji family, walking towards the door.

"It's been raining outside, Kunimitsu," She mentioned to him. "You know, it's just that time of year again. Would you like to hold the umbrella?" She asked, trying to get him to talk a little more. Sure, her son was a 'man of few words', but he needed to make at least a little more contact. Clearly, his mind was far more occupied than it was usually, and Tezuka had a slightly morbid air about him.

"Sure, I will." He took the umbrella, and they exited. Surely enough, the rain was coming in drenching sheets, and they both had to brace themselves firmly on the ground to keep from getting knocked over by the strong gusts of wind. His mother, luckily, had parked very nearby, so it wasn't a challenge. Tezuka sat on the passenger side, and Tezuka's mother started the car.

"Kunimitsu, I saved you some dinner," she said softly, touching his shoulder before pulling out of the parking lot and entering the main street. "It's your favorite." It was relatively desolate, and they were making good time back home. "I know you haven't eaten since lunch, and I hope your hungry. I don't want you to get sick, after all." Tezuka felt the urge to shake his head, but it would've been extremely rude. His mother had probably made an extra effort into making and saving him a special dinner.

"I'm not really hungry right now. I'll bring it to school tomorrow instead so it doesn't got to waste."

Out of the corner of his eye, he was able to see his mother purse her lips lightly in a gesture of disapproval. "No, I want you to eat tonight, Tezuka. If you don't have an appetite just eat as much as you can. It isn't good for you to be skipping meals."

"Yes, mother." She seemed appeased, and said nothing else about the manner. Tezuka was honestly exhausted, so he tilted his head until it was lightly pressed against the car window, watching the sheets of rain as they came down. He had no use fighting her, after all. Yet, it was only after that, that Tezuka suddenly had a rather unpleasant realization that he didn't have his school bag or his tennis racquet. Internally groaning, especially since he'd had his science workbook and a few notebooks in there, he noted to tell his mother as soon as they reached home.

His father and mother left him alone when he got home, and Tezuka, since he left his bags, supposedly in the ambulance or on the street, had no homework to do. He made up that time by sitting at the table, poking at his food. His mother had offered to heat it up for him so it wouldn't be so cold, but he'd rejected her offer and said that he'd just eat it the way it was. However, without much interest in eating, he took few bites, and those he took were only for his mother's sake. The clock on the wall showed the time growing late, and the house had fallen silent. Sure, it was always pretty quiet, but now it had the sort of late-night silence to it. His parents were probably in bed by now, and he should be, too. After all, he had school in the morning, and there was absolutely no sense in losing sleep so that he would be tired.

There was silence, and Tezuka stood, putting the food away in the refrigerator for the next morning in case he was hungry. Tezuka didn't feel like that. With nobody motivating him to do so, Tezuka went off to be, feeling a wave of fatigue hit him. Usually, it took Tezuka some time to fall asleep, but today he was asleep just a second after he was in bed.

His brow furrowed as a scene developed before him, slowly gathering details like the beginning of a painting, the colors gradually growing more vivid and real. Usually, Tezuka never dreamt, to be perfectly honest. Well, as psychologists would take that literally, he did dream, he just didn't remember those dreams. That, or he didn't care enough to try and think about them. Tonight it was especially vivid, though, so much that Tezuka was able to feel the ground beneath his feet, and the gentle changes in atmosphere as a nice, cool breeze subsided and peaked.

Now of course, he knew what people meant by dreams feeling real. Almost always, Tezuka was able to tell if he was having a dream, and since he didn't care so much about what he did in his dreams, the ones he ended up having were always boring, enough to make him not care for them much at all. Life was far more interesting than dreams.

"Kunimitsu," a soft, gentle voice carried by the breeze met his ears, and automatically assumed it was his mother. Perhaps it was a little low-pitched for her voice, but it wasn't exactly his father's deep, resonating tone, either. Yet Fuji's bright, smiling face made its way across his vision, as if it had been blown there by a gust of wind by accident.

"What is it, Fuji-kun?" His tone was casual, yet there was added stress on the last name and the honorific, as if to correct a young child for a mistake. The smiling Fuji didn't say anything, but fell to his pace, walking by his side, with their footsteps exactly matched. Fuji clung to his arm as a woman might have, and Tezuka felt the urge to shake him off. This behavior, annoying, and just a little different than Fuji would've acted, made his wary, and he pulled his arm free of Fuji's squeezing grasp.

"Kunimitsu, why do you pull away from me?" His voice wasn't playful, like Fuji's would've been if he had been joking. Tezuka raised an eyebrow. Why _shouldn't_ he be pulling away from him? Tezuka had every right in the world to do so, after all. Fuji pouted at his expression, though, and Tezuka frowned deeply. His own name was beginning to sound annoying, and Tezuka winced at the sound of it.

"Why don't you call me Tezuka?" Asked the man, tersely.

"I've never known you to be one to joke," said Fuji in a quick reply, furthering Tezuka's confusion. Fuji, at this point, was frustrating him more than he ever had at this point, though it was saying something since Fuji could be purposefully teasing at times. "Come on, silly, don't your remember?" he questioned.

"Remember what?" he inquired, in a rather clueless manner.

"We've been married for three years, Kunimitsu!" He giggled in a completely un-Fuji like manner and finished by clinging to his arm once again. Tezuka usually was able to keep his cool with Fuji, but the sudden wave of confusion at the idea of them being married made his eyebrow twitch. He wasn't ready to be married yet, especially with another man! He was only fifteen! Why, his mother would be having a fit right now at the very concept.

"Fuji, I don't think we're married," he said, his voice stern, telling Fuji that the joke was over and it was time to start acting normally again. He expected Fuji to finally take a hint, but he didn't seem to at all. This time, it was the prodigy's turn to frown, the expression cutting through the lovely, shining smile.

"Have you hit your head or something?" he asked, pressing his fingertips to Tezuka's forehead as if to check of Tezuka had a fever or something. Letting out a pensive sigh, his fingertips skimmed Tezuka's skin and moved downwards, across his cheek and down his neck. The cool touch made Tezuka shiver, and he realized Fuji was looking at him with open eyes. "Tell you what, Kunimitsu, I'll take you out to dinner. Maybe then you'll remember? Okay, sweetheart?" The usage was so serious that Tezuka felt a bitter taste come up in his mouth. This was even worse than his teasing usage of his title as captain. It was like a sweetened poison, so sweet that Tezuka spit it out because it tasted artificial.

Fuji bounded ahead of him for a minute, locks of hair bouncing up and down while Fuji skipped and hummed a cheerful tune under his breath. Was this the real Fuji? Tezuka was getting a headache, and he wasn't able to clearly tell anymore. If this was the real Fuji, Tezuka liked the imaginary one better. Maybe Fuji was just some sort of talking mirage, and he would go away soon. Alas, though, he wasn't in a desert. Something stopped Fuji dead ahead of him, and suddenly, the boy turned back to him, expression cold and eyes wide open.

"Tell me something, Kunimitsu?" his voice was venomously pleasant.

"What?" Tezuka was too annoyed to say anything else. Suddenly, he felt Fuji's cold hand close over his throat, and they were nose to nose. Tezuka squirmed, but Fuji's grip was extremely strong and in order to get the hand away from his throat, he had to physically push the prodigy's wrist aside with much force involved. "Fuji, what?" He asked, slightly panicked. Occupying himself with the task of straightening his glasses, he took a chance to take a deep breath and recollect his courage.

"You're my husband! Call me Shuusuke!" He shouted, eyes narrowing. No, no, this wasn't like Fuji at all. What was wrong? What, or who, was making Fuji do this? This joke wasn't funny anymore, and Tezuka believed that Fuji had a sick mind if he still believed that this was at all laughable. There was a well-aimed punch, centered towards his nose. Just in time, out of pure instinct, Tezuka stepped aside, parried, and countered. His counter punch stopped millimeters from Fuji's face, held back by old morals and rules. "You said you loved me, traitor." Traitor? Who had Tezuka betrayed? He'd never told Fuji that he'd loved him. Biting his lips, Tezuka knew that he needed to speak out against what was happening before anything serous happened.

"This isn't funny anymore," he said, dead serious, sounding calm yet really beginning to panic on the inside about what Fuji was saying. "The joke's over." Fuji looked as if angrier by this, and Tezuka stopped what he was saying so as not to anger Fuji more. Was he on something?

"Then why did you kill me?" Fuji was just being contradictory. If Fuji were dead, he wouldn't be standing right there. "You thought that you had gotten rid of me, so you relaxed. I came back though, Kunimitsu. I'll kill you for taking my life, and lying like you did."

"Fuji," Tezuka warned.

"Shuusuke!" Fuji countered, interrupting him in the middle of his sentence. Wondering what had made Fuji so mad, he corrected himself just so he could talk, and maybe settle Fuji's anger a little bit.

"Shuusuke, sorry." The name felt foreign on his tongue. "I think you're the one who's mistaken. I never said I loved you… but I'd never kill you. Are you sure you just haven't been dreaming? You're getting irrational."

"I'm not the one being irrational," Fuji replied, whipping out a knife and pressing the point experimentally on the skin of his neck, pressing lightly enough to frighten, but not to injure. Fuji could feel his pulse beating beneath the blade. "You're going to pay, for everything you've done to me." The last thing Tezuka saw were ice blue eyes before everything went black.

Tezuka sat up rather suddenly in bed, breathing harder than he had in a long time, with tears collecting slightly at the corners of his eyes. Fuji… dead… revenge… knives… Even then, sitting there in bed, it took a good ten minutes for Tezuka to come to his senses and for his breathing to settle. After all, it wasn't every day that he had a nightmare. On his nightstand, a digital clock read 2:11. Groaning, Tezuka slapped a hand to his forehead before picking up his glasses from the nightstand, putting them on, and switching on the lights. He blinked, his eyes not used to such intense light, since his pupils were almost fully dilated. He gave a few moments for his eyes to adjust, and to allow the burning sensation to fade, before opening them fully again.

It hadn't been Fuji, he told himself, but it still took a while for his worries to quell. Fuji would never do something like that, would he? It was unrealistic, as Tezuka had never told Fuji that he loved him, they weren't married, and they weren't intimate enough to have ever seriously used each other's given names. He hadn't killed Fuji. It hadn't been his fault, and there was nothing that he could've done to prevent the prodigy from running out in front of that car… was there? Fuji wasn't even dead, and besides that, even if Fuji were dead, people only came back to life like that in horror movies. All these reassurances didn't seem to do Tezuka well, despite everything else.

His mind, though, wouldn't keep from running wild, and it was probably because of the fact that he felt like he didn't know the real Fuji anymore. He could've gone through three years of junior high, and Fuji could've been living lies. How did he know who the real Fuji was? But… he protested to himself… he could at least say that the pitiful version of the boy he'd seen lately was not Fuji. Tezuka liked to think that, even though deep down he knew that there was a chance that this was the real Fuji, and it had just taken a long time for the depressed personality to come out.

"You need to stop worrying," he told himself, brushing some bangs out of his eyes. Yet, Tezuka wasn't able to clear his mind effectively, and by the time he was able to sleep, there was only enough time for a half an hour of rest before he needed to get ready for school. The shrill alarm clock woke him before he got out of bed and switched it off, more tired than he'd been in a very long time. Gathering his things, with his hair even messier than usual, he made his way on what seemed like an extremely long trip to school, which seemed oddly empty to know that there would be no Fuji at school to greet him.

Although Tezuka had been awake early, he struggled to get ready, lagging, tired, and devoid of any and all energy. He didn't even have time to say good-bye to his mother before heading out the door to school.

He was walking to school today instead of taking public transit, just so that he could think things out. The crowd passed him up, as he was walking rather slowly. After turning onto a side street, the crowd lessened, and the pace of the people around him slowed. A cat mewled at him, darting out of an alleyway. The cat must've been a stray, since it's visible ribs and tiny body suggested a poor diet. The cat, with a dirty white coat and striking blue eyes, looked uncannily like it was staring at him, through orbs that resembled Fuji's very much.

Mewing again, the cat was enjoying weaving itself between his legs of few times, and purring so loud that Tezuka was able to hear it. The cat looked like it was enjoying itself so much that he didn't really have any reason to shoo it away. The cat perched itself upon a wall up ahead, and Tezuka cautiously scratched it under the chin. Really, he didn't have time to be stopping and doing things like this, but the feline seemed satisfied by the small show of affection, and leapt down onto the ground afterwards.

The cat skittered ahead of him, letting off a few meows before falling silent once again, but it always kept extremely close to him, and only wandered off when he finally met a large crowd again. Tezuka was soon to disregard the stray cat. After all, it wasn't as if the cat was going to follow him again.

"Hey, Tezuka-buchou, do you know where Fujiko is?" Eiji was asking him once he had arrived at school a few minutes later. Eiji was keeping awfully close to him, as if he was worried about something. Fuji's teachers had been informed, and it was probably in a few newspapers, but Tezuka remembered that Eiji probably didn't read newspapers, and hadn't even realized what had happened yesterday. Tezuka, though, wasn't in the mood to explain to Eiji although he knew the boy would have to know. With gentle eyes and a concerned look, he touched Tezuka's shoulder lightly. "He might just be sick today, and I probably shouldn't be asking you, but I have a feeling you know." Sometimes, Eiji's instincts were surprisingly sharper than one could ever imagine. Tezuka was impressed.

"Come up to the school roof with me. I'll explain there," he said, heading in that direction and expecting Eiji would follow. The boy's eyes widened slightly, and he trailed after Tezuka quickly. They were here in a hallway. They needed to be alone. Here, it was too crowded. If someone heard, there would be rumors spreading around school, and that was the very last thing Fuji would need.

"Tezuka-buchou? Wait! What happened?" Eiji's voice was a little worried now, and he was able to pick up Tezuka's concern once the crowd began to thin. Tezuka, pretty out-of-character, sighed.

"There was an accident," Tezuka said, eventually. Eiji's broke over his as an interruption, panicked about his best friend. The normal energy that surrounded him suddenly turned shallow, and he was extremely worried.

"Tezuka, what? I want to know!" His voice held every hint of seriousness, and something had died within his gaze. At the end of his question, his voice cracked a little bit, hinting at internal turmoil. Eiji probably wouldn't have been able to hold it back. Unlike Fuji, he didn't hide emotions well.

"Fuji was hit by a car yesterday." Eiji's eyes were the size of dinner plates. "He's in the hospital right now… in critical condition. The doctor says…" Tezuka paused, wondering if he should add in the fact or not. Well, Eiji would know eventually, so maybe it was better if he told him as soon as possible. "The doctor says that Fuji's in such bad condition that he isn't sure if he's going to make it or not." Eiji gave a cry, and before Tezuka could pull away, Eiji's arms were latched firmly around him, and his head was buried in Tezuka's shirt. Eiji was shaking, and Tezuka sensed he was close to tears.

"Why… Tezuka-buchou? Why did it have to be Fuji-kun?" Tezuka hadn't expected Eiji to react like this; sure, he was an emotional person, but even through that brew of emotions, Eiji had suddenly panicked and was on the verge of tears. Raising an eyebrow, Tezuka said nothing, as he felt a few tears soak his shirt. "I knew it. I knew something had happened! I just got this bad feeling about him yesterday and… I didn't want to think something had happened! I was so worried about him and I just thought that he'd be okay! Oh, I don't want Fujiko do die!" It was all said so fast that Tezuka could barely hear any of it, and his last sentence ended in a wail. Nevertheless, the words hit Tezuka hard, and he bit his lip harshly. He didn't want Fuji to die either, but did Eiji really have to say it? The words sounded so harsh upon his ears, perhaps because he was trying to cling to the last of his naïve thoughts on this situation. Eiji's knees gave out without warning, and his arms were wrapped so tightly around Tezuka that the captain was dragged down with him.

"Tezuka, this is so unfair! Fuji doesn't deserve it. He doesn't!" Eiji's head turned a few times, confused. His eyes were wide and blinking for a moment, along with his breath, which was harsh and forced.

"Calm down a little," he was telling Eiji, without much hope for success. Eiji's gripped tightened around him to a painful degree before loosening a minute later. This went on in a cycle, tight, loose, tight, and loose… Tezuka was caught within it all, trying to find something to say. Oishi would've done such a better job at this.

That was it! Oishi could help. He new Eiji better than most people did.

"Eiji…" started Tezuka tensely, slightly choked for air because of Eiji's suffocating hold. "Would you like me to get Oishi for you?" Against his chest, Eiji shook his head rapidly, making Tezuka hesitate slightly in the idea of pulling away from him, keeping his distance. This wasn't very fair of Eiji to be acting so angrily towards him when Tezuka had only done what Eiji had asked him to, tell him what happened to Fuji.

"No!" his voice sounded like it was filled with anger and spite, yet really it was only the deep sadness. Eiji had never lost anybody before, so dealing with the very idea of it was painful, because obviously, Eiji was convinced that the doctor's prognosis meant that Fuji was going to die for sure. Frankly, Tezuka didn't really want to be here anymore. Eiji's sorrow was contagious. "I only want Fuji!" His phrase sounded like that of a young child's, yet it brought a solid reminder to Tezuka that they weren't adults. They were still young. Was Fuji's change of character contagious? Tezuka thought that nobody was really acting like themselves as of late, and that Fuji might have had something to do with that. Tezuka's eyes slid shut, and he let Eiji cry for a while, the choked sobs being the only sound that could be heard for a ways. He should've felt sorry because Eiji was going through a lot of pain, but Tezuka was feeling a different sort of sorrow. Now he was beginning to get more and more morbid, and slowly, his success at putting up a mask, without emotions, was beginning slowly to diminish little by little. Why was Eiji doing this to him? Surely, he knew Tezuka was about to break down, too.

"No, no, no, no…" muttered Eiji under his breath. Slowly, the boy was regaining slight control again, but the process was slow and painful. Yet, their time was running out. They'd both need to be to class very soon, or they would be both in a lot of trouble. "Tezuka, why?" Tezuka didn't answer, because he believed that Eiji's question was rhetorical. Slowly, the redhead's sobs quieted, fading as fast as they had appeared.

"Eiji?" he asked hesitantly, later. "It's almost time for class to begin. Would you like me to walk you there?" The redhead stood suddenly, releasing Tezuka from his grip so suddenly that Tezuka, whom had been in a crouch, fell back with a small noise of surprise. Eiji's gaze softened at him, and a silence passed in which Eiji took a lot of time to do his best to wipe his eyes free of tears. He still sniffled though, even when he did accomplish the feat of stopping the tears. Tezuka stood, brushing some of the dust of his school pants.

"Tezuka…" Eiji paused for a moment, as if finding words for what he was trying to say. "Thank you for telling me what happened to Fuji. I… needed to know." He turned his back to Tezuka, head turned upwards towards the sky. "I can walk myself to class." These were probably some of the most mature things he'd ever said in his three years of being at Seshun Gakuen. Still sniffling a little bit, he turned and left without so much as a farewell. Tezuka felt empty not having heard his usual cheerful farewell, something along the lines of 'see you later, nya!'

"Tezuka," an invisible Fuji-voice seemed to speak to him, though literally it was his inner conscious. "You need to be strong now. Be a good captain and make sure all your team members are doing well. You may be graduating soon, but it doesn't mean that you can forget that the Seigaku tennis team needs to stick together in times of hardship. Tezuka wanted to argue with the voice. It was so hard to do it when already; he had so many things going through his head. Who in their right minds was able to have a million people cry on his shoulder without breaking down himself, especially because of the fact that Fuji's injury had taken such a toll on him already. "Be strong, Tezuka Kunimitsu," said the voice, loud enough that it wasn't easy to ignore. The voice set afire questions that had been floating in his head, and for once, Tezuka covered his ears in hopes that he wouldn't hear the voice again.

Tired and weary, he made his way to the classroom. The hallways had quieted down and the crowd thinned since the bell was going to ring soon. Tezuka, far from his classroom, would have to hurry if he wanted to avoid trouble and not miss the class bow. Was this the sort of luck Fuji had before the accident? Was this why he was so miserable? If he was, Tezuka was beginning to comprehend why Fuji acted the way he did. What had been happening shouldn't have been wearing on him, yet oddly enough, it did.

He'd have to tell the rest of the members after school. Maybe if the doctors allowed it, they could all go visit him that week. That was… if there was any Fuji left to visit. In an almost business-like manner, Tezuka pushed those thoughts aside and pushed the sliding door to his classroom and stepped inside, apologizing to his teacher for his lateness. "Tezuka-kun," the man said. "Did you lose your bags, yesterday?" He held them both up. Whoever had found them must've returned them, and Tezuka should be grateful he put his names on things in case they were to ever get lost.

"Yes, sir. Thank you. Taking the bags and avoiding the looks everyone in his class was giving him because of his lateness, he took his seat.

There was quiet, deafeningly so. When the teacher spoke, Tezuka had to strain his ears to hear. Though he'd made his resolution that he wasn't going to let it affect him, and that he wasn't going to let it affect his schoolwork, the lack of sleep, and extreme stress were beginning to take their toll on Tezuka. He was restless. He wanted to get out of this classroom. He wanted to go home.

Sometimes, there wasn't anything left to do but wait. The student in front of him passed back the page to a test, and methodically he took one from the pile and passed the rest to the girl behind him. His thoughts retreated to the stray cat, the one that had reminded him so much of Fuji because of it's eyes. Where was it now? It shouldn't have mattered, but Tezuka was genuinely curious. The creature was probably around a garbage can, somewhere in the city, chasing rats and wandering aimlessly. The thing's life must've been pretty boring, and hard. Here he was, thinking he was in a tough situation, when that little feline lived out in the world, alone and exposed to all sorts of dangers.

Now Tezuka was surprised by his own thoughts, especially since he'd never been very fond of animals at all. He shouldn't have cared what happened to that little cat, yet somehow… he did.

Sometimes there wasn't anything left to do but wait….

Yet sometimes, it was so hard to wait.

* * *

I have some more random notes to make at the end of this. As always, if you know more about human anatomy than I do, and you see me make a mistake about something, please point it out. That's the only way I'm able to learn.

This was a pretty long chapter. I wish that I could update it this weekend, but I was pushing to finish this one by Friday, since I'll be gone at a convention on the weekend. It shouldn't stop me from updating sometime next week, though.

Other random notes:

I don't like how I make everyone so out of character… I need to make a point to fix those sorts of things.

On an absolutely random note, cats with white coats and blue eyes are almost always deaf. Yes, pretty to look at, but deaf. I could go on and on about the kitty facts, since my veterinary science project last summer was on felines. So far this doesn't really have any significance to the story, just to clear things up. Maybe it will, later.

Something I did mean to comment on after last chapter was the fact that Zhivago's name isn't mine. "Zhivago" is a name I used probably because I couldn't think of anything else. This is taken from the movie named "Doctor Zhivago", a movie set during the Russian revolution. I've never seen this movie… I've just heard it's one of my mother's favorites. So yeah, the name isn't very original.


	10. Chapter 10

Here's yet another chapter. Standard disclaimers apply, so please don't sue my muses or I. However, PLEASE do review. Feed the muses. I'm not going to point a gun at this story for lack of reviews, because writing should be a passion and I shouldn't substitute it for just the idea of getting reviews. They are very nice, though. Please, if you have the time, do review. And, of course, I can't thank everyone enough for reviewing before. I think your feedback is part of the reason I can keep going on a roll like this.

I know I wanted to say something else, but I've already written enough. So… enjoy…. I guess.

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**To Sedate- Chapter 10**

_A gravestone marked "Alexei Zhivago." Not many other markings adorned it, save the year of birth and the year of death. 31 October 19459 to 28 November 1981. There was no explanation bearing his relation to anybody, or the place of birth though it implied that the person once alive had been born in Russia, and had moved to Japan for some reason beyond explanation now. In Fuji's head, it would probably be a blur how he and Tenshi sat there that night, looking up at the stars as a gentle breeze blew. Yet, in Tenshi's head, it would be forever imprinted, not by accident, but on purpose. Tenshi always wanted to be able to remember Fuji. _

_No flowers, no markings, no sign of anyone having mourned his death. Yet, why should it be expected? Alexei Zhivago had died a long time ago. Not a lot of the graves showed signs of the families still visiting their graves but some did, and the tombstone engraved with the Russian's name looked so oddly empty. Fuji made a mental note to lay a single flower on the man's grave, though he didn't know why exactly it would matter. _

_After all, he didn't know the man. _

_  
Alexei Zhivago would never make a difference in his life. _

_He would probably never make a difference by placing flowers on his grave. _

_If he did leave flowers, though, the grave would be brighter, and it would be a happier place. At least, that was the conclusion that Fuji had come to. He hadn't even thought about telling Tenshi about it. As outrageous as the man could be sometimes, he wouldn't have seen the point in leaving flowers on the grave. Fuji kept the idea as a private matter all his own._

_Yet somehow, in his heart, he felt like the flower was of grave importance, and he promised himself that he would put one flower down by the tombstone that weekend as soon as he got out of school. _

_Perhaps it was an old instinct, the feeling that the dead were something of a surreal subject, that either needed exploration or honor. Why that tombstone and not another one, Fuji didn't know. That had been the first one he had seen, but certainly not the only foreigner's grave that looked as if it needed some flowers put on. However, the boy was very set on putting at least one flower down on that specific grave. _

_A gravestone; there was only a name, a year of birth, and a year of death. The information was surprisingly little, yet all one needed to know everything they might have needed to know about the person. It never really mattered to know what the person had been like in real life, after all, as long as it wasn't involved with a murder or forensics case. With a final note one would stare at it, tilting their head to the side slightly and pondering why the space on solid, polished rock looked so empty, so devoid of information. The place was peaceful, yet surrounded by an aura of its own, as if the gravesite had a personality of its own. _

_Maybe that was why Tenshi liked it so much, not for the peacefulness or the natural settings, but because it seemed to have a personality which went along well with Tenshi's, though nobody could really give words to support the idea that an inanimate object, especially a gravesite, would have a personality of its own. That was, as long as one didn't believe in ghosts. Fuji didn't; he'd never really been partial to the concepts of the supernatural. He'd go along with some of them for fun, but he didn't really like to think there were invisible sprits wandering around, those who "had yet to find peace". _

_And Fuji had indeed gone and bought a single flower that weekend, a delicate, fragile daisy, a simple flower, but something he'd decided was best. Really, he'd never know all those types of flowers, like the flower of death and the flower of romance, so he'd done it to avoid mistake. The delicate petals rested slightly off his fingers, and slowly he set down the daisy and walked away. With that only, the place seemed a lot friendlier. And afterwards, he would lie on his back letting the wind ruffle through his hair lightly, carrying his worries away with the passing breeze. Sighing, he would let them go, as they slipped through his fingers like silvery thread. _

_Yet, somehow, one refused to let go no matter how much Fuji tugged at it, and that was Tezuka's face, forever implanted within his mind, almost like some sort of marker. Fuji squinted, and the sunlight brightened until the scene faded from him, colors morphing to a bright white. All too soon, it was too blinding to keep his eyes open, and Fuji closed his eyes, letting go of himself._

"Tenshama, how has Fuji been doing?" The old man's check-ups on Tenshi's progress had become a regular affair among daily life. Tenshi, though, didn't know why the man bothered. He never really knew how exactly he got the information he did, but when Tenshi did something wrong; he almost always seemed to know. The man may have been older than Fuji, but he was still technically pretty young, and he had yet to fully master the skill of understanding the man he took orders from.

"Shuusuke was hit by a car," Tenshi's voice still held visible traces of worry and fear, so strong that they were tangible. Obviously, with time, Tenshi's fear of the worst was beginning to grow, and it had only been two days. They still didn't know whether or not he'd be all right.

"Now, Tenshama," the man reprimanded. "Remember; you're in Japan. It isn't proper for you to be calling him by his given name." He stroked his long beard pensively, his voice gruff and stern. "I'm sure that Fuji is at least a little uncomfortable by it. Really, if you're planning to keep his trust, you should be polite. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." He replied, almost emotionlessly. The trees above them were silent; motionless. "Sir, what about him? Do you think he's going to pull through?" His frown deepened. The old man wasn't used to this sort of seriousness coming from the young adult, the underlying of a hidden obsession that perhaps Tenshi wasn't even aware of, something that was so subtle, yet something that played such a large impact on his thoughts and behaviors.

"Well, I don't know. I suppose it could go either way, don't you think?" the man asked.

"I couldn't do anything to help him… it's like once again, I wasn't even tangible to him. I sure wasn't tangible to that Tezuka boy." His worry seemed to exceed things a little.

"Leave things up to fate. Fuji's health will probably pull through if Fuji wants it to."

"He seemed to have his mind so set on his dying," Tenshi protested, his tone upset and maybe even a little bit hurt by the older man's response. Warily, the boy standing behind him shifted on his feet, his eyes carefully fixed on Tenshi as if he was summing him up.

"Then it will be that way. There are only so many things that you are able to do, Tenshama. If Fuji wants to die, then there isn't much that you're going to be able to do that will change his mind. Sometimes these things can be prevented, but as far as we know, this wasn't a suicide attempt. Some people just never pull through those accidents. Maybe they sense they'll never be normal again and some just stop trying. Sometimes there's that driving will, though, that will to live that makes miracles happen."

"But there has to be-" His angry protest, rising in volume was cut silent by a curt, stern voice. Weakly, Tenshi's voice fell back, though not by much. It took a few minutes and a few words from the old man to make him truly settle down.

"No." The man said firmly, stubbornly. Never showing much retaliation, he didn't back down in his stern tone of voice, which always dictated what Tenshi would and wouldn't do. However, his voice softened just a fraction, quiet in a way to acknowledge that Tenshi was only saying this out of concern for Fuji. And, with his reasoning intact, Tenshi wasn't trying anything with Fuji anymore, and the job he had been assigned to would be a successful one without the idea of a… relationship. "Teach yourself the discipline of letting go, Tenshama. If Fuji dies, that is life. Not everyone can be saved, so it is best to brace yourself. Don't get attached. Fuji won't live forever."

"Why haven't you been visiting the hospital?" he asked, turning his head towards him in a slightly curious gesture. "After all, you seem extremely concerned about him."

"I tried," said Tenshi. "There's a nurse that's been hanging around there, though… she seems to know. She keeps staring hard in my direction whenever I was there. She gets off her shift at about midnight, though, so I can go see Fuji for a few hours, then." That glare of the nurse's wasn't just unnerving; it frightened him slightly. Before he'd met her, he thought only the old man could give glares that cold, but he seemed to have met somebody who could top it easily.

"I see," said the old man. Behind him, the little child stood at his heals, glaring over at Tenshi with cool eyes. Tenshi had always disliked those eyes. They were far too calculating for that little slender body, rather than the ones that would be expected, the ones filled with innocence and playfulness. No, just one glance at this child told even the most uneducated person that he had seen it all, and when it came to life, he took everything with the utmost of seriousness, so much that it wasn't even funny. "Then just be a little more careful. It isn't every day that you come across a person as sharp as this. Be on your guard."

The last phrase reminded him strangely of the Tezuka kid, who always seemed to be telling the entire Seishun Gakuen tennis club to never let their guards down. It was like his trademark saying, aside from the slightly amusing fact that he seemed to have a liking for issuing punishment laps. The boy was interesting in the fact that he seemed stone cold on the outside, stern and strict, yet that Tenshi had seen glimpses of a completely different other self that suggested otherwise. Tenshi thought he cared inside, but it was covered by that sternness so much that it was hard to tell anymore, especially since Tezuka didn't seem to care very much for the idea of showing many emotions at all. Maybe he thought they were a weakness, betraying stray thoughts to opponents.

"Yes, sir," was his monotonous reply, although the warning was warranted. That nurse's gaze had worried him slightly the first time. It had been cold and piercing, enough that Tenshi had to leave the room reluctantly from Fuji's side while she took a hold of the prodigy's wrist and changed the IV. Tenshi didn't like the look of him, lying on that bed, unconscious, and having four or five different needles sticking out of one arm, his right. One, he guessed, was for fluids, but there were others he could only guess. One might've been for a blood transfusion, since Fuji lost so much blood, and one might've even been some sort of painkiller or morphine. Tenshi wouldn't have known since he had never taken any sort of anatomy or health class.

"Now, onto what I wanted to talk to you about today," the man said. His voice was serious, but the phrase could've been coined for a casual conversation at British "teatime" "I wanted to know if you've told Fuji about anything yet. Why you're with him, I mean." Tenshi paused for a moment, and frowned. Obviously, that was a negative response. After all, Tenshi was the sort of person who liked to twist the truth, and make the person have to think unconventionally to find the answers. Tenshi's eyes were flicked downwards. He hadn't wanted to tell Fuji, for somehow, he thought the idea would diminish Fuji's view on him, and Fuji was of vital emotional importance, the sole purpose he was able to find in life, and somebody whom he had grown to be able to call a friend.

"No." His voice was drier than what could've been expected to him, though not stern like Tezuka's voice when he ordered the regulars to do laps around the tennis courts. Fuji's allusive blue eyes haunted his thoughts, and he hung over them for a while.

"Then I want you to tell him tonight. Fuji needs to know what is going on now." Light-colored eyes widened for a fraction of a second as if something painful was haunting him, an invariably escapable thought plaguing him that he wanted to get rid of. Of course he wanted to say no, and there was a pessimistic part that wanted to tell the old man in an almost snide sort of way that Fuji was probably going to have surgery tonight, or something of the sort. That, or Fuji could be dead. It was like a roll of the dice, and Tenshi for once didn't want to see how it was going to turn out. He just wished for things to go back to the way they were, as if somebody was pressing the rewind button on a video cassette player.

"What if he isn't conscious tonight? The doctors said he was conscious once, but he was delirious, and I wasn't there."

"Don't take my meaning literally. As soon as you can talk and he can hear you, you will tell him." His voice held a sort of finality to it, and Tenshi though argumentative and slightly stubborn in nature, knew not to argue it. It wasn't worth the risk of invoking the old man's anger, which was one of the few things on planet Earth that scared him out of his wits.

"Yes."

"Very well, then." He said, nodding to Tenshi. Tenshi usually would've taken that as a gesture to leave, since he only gave orders and then asked Tenshi to leave. After all, Tenshi was supposed to _focus on Fuji._ The old man liked to be more businesslike in saying that he needed to focus on the client, although Fuji wasn't a client even in the slightest. Today, however, he stopped Tenshi, as he was about to leave.

"I'd like to know what exactly happened to Fuji." He said, his voice being enough to pull Tenshama back over towards him. "Tell me the extent of his injuries," the man said, expecting that Tenshi would know it since it was expected of him that he stay near Fuji whenever possible. "Tell me what course of action the doctors are planning to take." Tenshi wanted to ask why he needed to know all this, but he knew better than to question.

Tenshi had to pause for a moment, as it took a few seconds in order to recall what exactly was happening, and what needed to be said. "Well, it's confirmed he had four broken ribs and a punctured right lung. There was a lot of internal bleeding by the area, the finally managed to stop it, though. They've been giving him a lot of blood transfusions, too." he didn't understand anything of what he was saying; only saying it by memory.

"There didn't seem to be anything physically wrong with Fuji's lungs aside from some fluid buildup there, some blood, I think. They helped that now, and they're talking about getting him into surgery as soon as possible, too The surgery's to fix his rib. In his leg he has four broken bones and a fractured… the patella." The doctor had used the term, and he wasn't sure what he had meant. The doctor hadn't explained the term, either. They said they'd need to do some minor surgery on it. He has slight nerve damage in that leg, too, so he might eventually have to go to America to help with that if physical therapy here doesn't help."

They did an MRI, and his head seems okay. They kept talking about brain damage, but they say now he's lucky because it was just a cut on his head… that the only extent of lasting damage he'll have is the possibility of slight headaches until the cut across his forehead heals. They said something about diminished eyesight, too." All this was recited mechanically, with Tenshi not knowing most of what he had said. However, he'd been trained to be able to gather and recite information even if he wasn't able to understand that, and he was doing so exactly now.

"His arms were bruised and scraped at the least. They aren't injured, at least. They say the reason he probably didn't have brain damage because he instinctively took much of the impact of the initial hit by spreading it out on his arms and legs rather then skidding across the pavement entirely on his head." He stopped for a moment, but the older man nodded as if to motion for him to go on. It took Tenshi a few minutes to continue, perhaps because his memory strained to remember how exactly the doctor had worded it. To him, a person whom had never been educated in medicine, some of the complicated terminology was far beyond his knowledge, so he relied directly on his memories rather than personal knowledge on the subject. Already, he had spoken with much detail, but the older man seemed to want to know what else was going on. Perhaps this was the man's way of showing concerned.

"Anyways… they said something about trying a surgery within the next few days, they said they're going to try the surgery, but they're watching some of the cuts on his legs, because they're very worried about an infection that's been building slightly near a gash by his ankle that's seems highly resistant to antibiotics. So they don't know how it's going to go, yet."

There was silence, and Tenshi had nothing left to say. Worried, he let his head droop. He was able to get a few things out of the long rant. Fuji was hurt, and the car had hit him so fast that even after the first too days, they weren't very sure if he would still live or not. Things were looking up for Fuji, though. Now, he seemed to be at least a little bit better, but the doctor always kept talking about Fuji's will. The man was saying Fuji wasn't giving much of a fighting spirit, and with that sort of attitude, it was likely that Fuji's condition would decline quickly after the surgery.

Last night, he'd sat by Fuji's side for quite a few hours, after that nurse had left, of course. There was a clock on the wall that read early, around two in the morning. Yet somehow, the dark-eyed, light-haired man wasn't showing any signs of fatigue. He was just having a sort of staring contest with Fuji's unconscious form, as if there was something he would discover from it if he scrutinized him.

Fuji's pitiful state made him want to punch somebody in the face, so much that whenever a nurse or a doctor came in the room to check up on him or write something on his chart, that he had to keep his fists and teeth clenched for fear he would really do something to harm them. Really, they didn't deserve it. They were trying to help Fuji, not hurt him. What should he have spent the anger on, though? It just really hurt his heart to see Fuji like this.

Unlike when he'd been hit by the car, his breathing was aided and came a lot easier. The rise and fall of his chest was peaceful. Then again, that was the only natural thing about him. They hadn't been able to put a cast on Fuji's leg, so it was slung and slightly swollen though the doctor had given him a large dose of medication to keep the swelling to a minimum. His arms were both bruised and bandages along with those caused by the IV needles; his uniform had been replaced with a bleached, stiff white hospital robe. IV's ran to his wrist and forearm. Even his skin was a little paler. With that his normally light-looking hair appeared slightly darker, while his skin tone blended into the bandages wrapped around his head more and more each day.

The day would blend into night, the beautiful reds of the sunset dying the sky a beautiful array of colors. The nurse wasn't around that much today. Maybe she had a day off. Tenshi found himself once again in the sterile hotel room, which he really did hate, but would remain in for Fuji's sake. He was never quite sure that he would be able to get used to the smell of bleach and antiseptic in the air; the place was far too clean, taking on a rather mechanical environment as a result. The blinds in the window of the room were drawn, but some last remaining rays of sunlight escaped, falling into strips on the bed, touching Fuji's skin and dying it a light orange.

Pressing his dry lips together for a moment, he memorized Fuji there, lying in the bed so hurt. The sketchy details came to him first, but he felt like he needed to remember it, just in case this was the last he would see of Fuji alive. It hurt, and Tenshi had lost his smile, the cheesy smile that sometimes made Fuji laugh slightly. His eyelashes fluttered, rarely revealing dark orbs, full of the fact that he was a stranger to this land. Fuji sometimes talked deliberately slow around him, but the nurses and doctors, who couldn't see him, talked a fast and complicated form of Japanese with many sorts of medical terms that Tenshi wouldn't know very well unless he made an effort to look them up in the dictionary.

Again, he was being reminded that he really out of place here, no matter how long it would take him to learn the language. No matter how much he perfected Japanese as a language, he would always have the voice and a mind of a foreigner, looking upon the Japanese life from the sidelines. Here, he only had Fuji.

"Shuusuke." His fingers reached out and brushed the forehead of the boy he'd grown so close to, a boy whom he admired for his strength, yet was allowed to comfort in times of hardship. Those hardships had become more and more frequent. Tenshi wouldn't be surprised if the Tezuka boy were able to reciprocate his feelings without question. Tezuka, though, being a person to probably believe in the phrase "actions speak louder than words," would take a long time to actually decide that those feelings were worth voicing.

Tezuka would have the power to get closer to him, and Tenshi would once again be a bystander, yet he didn't want to be. The old man, though, had a strict policy against relationships with whom he was working with. Already he'd been re-assigned three times, and his position was beginning to be questioned. If Tenshi was only interested in relationships, and was never able to let go, then he wouldn't be able to do his job. Something special about Fuji drew him more to him than others, almost like a magnet would, and the sound of the word pervert fell painfully upon his ears to think that Fuji, such a beautiful young man, was only fifteen. Sure, in all technicality, he wasn't too much older, but as he believed, there was a rule saying Fuji wasn't of age, and it was improper for him to be obsessed with such a young boy.

And remembering the old man's words, he had to painfully admit that it would never even work.

No matter how much he reminded himself of that, thoughts of Fuji would not leave his head, and his hand remained firmly glued to Fuji's face, shifting slightly against the skin of his cheek, almost in a way, trying to invoke a sort of response from Fuji, a groan, a knowing blink, a hand pushing away his own, anything. There was no such thing. Fuji's eyes remained shut, and slowly as all feeling faded away, he drew back his hand, with his fingers trailing lightly against Fuji's mouth before lifting, and returning to a more proper place.

He scrutinized Fuji again, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Why did you do this to yourself?" He placed his hands in his lap and leaned slightly over the hospital bed avoiding the IV line in order to get a better view of Fuji's voice. There was no response from the silent body, only the gentle sound of inhaling and exhaling. Out in the hallway, there was the panicked cry of a nurse as she called for a doctor in another room. "How could you let this happen to yourself? You had so much going for you. You could've been successful—you still can be successful." This was like talking a wall, he got no response whatsoever from the unconscious form slightly below his line of view.

Fuji might have even lived a life that he would've desired for many of the years he was a teenager. Fuji was in almost every way perfect. He was a prodigy and things came quite easily to him. He was even popular, among male and female alike. Girls loved him and wished to date him. Boys respected him, and maybe even some of the unpopular students wished that they could be him because he got so much attention from the opposite sex, and on occasion from the same sex, in instance of Tenshi, mostly. Shadowing his personality was a fierce protectiveness, especially of his brother. The supposed sadistic nature made him infamous on the tennis courts, and from the serious matched Tenshi had seen him play, it became obvious to him that Fuji was only extremely serious when playing with somebody who really tested his abilities, namely Tezuka. This, Tenshi admired it all. His fingers clenched the white sheets on the bed. They felt scratchy and stiff beneath his fingertips.

Darkness was brewing within his eyes, a darkness that had rarely brewed within his eyes. Tenshi realized in all the time he had walking the world; he had never really adjusted to the thought of having let go. All he could do was fight angrily about it, protesting that it wasn't fair because Fuji was far to young to die, and he least of all deserved it. Fuji was only fifteen, a very young age. He was supposed to go to a good high school with Tezuka. He was supposed to be happy. Namely, Fuji Shuusuke was supposed to have a bright future ahead of him. This wasn't very bright though, was it?

"Shuusuke," he shook his head, the name passing his lips dryly and painfully, as if it were venomous. "Come on, don't die. You know there are people out there that need you. Your family needs you. Your friends need you." _I need you._ Tenshi conveniently left that part out. This wasn't about him. He wasn't the one who needed support. Fuji was the one who was supposed to need his support, not the other way around. Tenshi didn't expect a response from the boy, but the words slipped from his lips anyways.

"You understand, right?" he queried, playing with Fuji's bangs slightly and letting a pregnant pause flow through his speech, as if he was giving Fuji time to give input, as if he was able to hear the boys words even though his lips weren't moving. There was no affirmative response, but Tenshi would've liked to pretend that the boy had said yes. Moving strands of hair away from the fabric of the bandages wrapped across his head, Tenshi did a rather out-of-character thing, and sighed. His fingers unwillingly drew away from Fuji for just a moment, shaking slightly when they did.

A ray of moonlight cast pale slits of shadows across the bed, this time making Fuji's skin seem to glow with a pale eminence. Tenshi paused from his thoughts in order to look out the window. It had gotten late. The sun had set without him noticing. Turning back to the boy on the bed, he tried to smile, since a small smile had grown on the boy's face. That smile was able to do amazing things. It brought a very light smile to his face. Casually, he adjusted the sheets, pulling the white, stiff excuse of a cover up to Fuji's neck, covering him completely save for his left arm, which was laying underside up since that was the arm that all the IV's were in for now. It was a fatherly, affectionate gesture, but Tenshi would've preferred it if he didn't need to do this in the first place, and would be able to spend this time making pleasant conversation with the prodigy. Fuji looked so peaceful sleeping there. Oh, how Tenshi wished he were awake…

Tears were still building lightly at the corner of his eyes, and at times like this, he wished that he would be able to break down in tears for his friend if it hadn't been so out of place. He really wanted to maintain the idea that he could remain strong, yet his shaking hand, currently petting Fuji's head, said otherwise. It kept shaking slightly, as if Tenshi had some sort of problem with his nerves that he cared not to correct.

"Live for my sake and the sake of everyone else around you if not for your own, okay, Shuusuke?" His voice was softer, this time, and he leaned down to kiss his forehead, still such an innocent gesture, something that he wouldn't get in trouble for if discovered. Tenshi paused slightly after that, knowing very well that if were discovered giving much more affection to Fuji, then he would lose his job probably permanently. This time, he wouldn't be given patience, and he wouldn't be reassigned. His job was his only connection to Fuji. If he wasn't hear, he wouldn't be able to be with Fuji at all, and at the time, he couldn't bare to stay away from him. Call it infatuation, call it lust, call it whatever, but Tenshi knew that he was hopelessly attracted, even if he wanted desperately for Fuji to be happy with Tezuka. His fingers clenched and unclenched a few times, as if he was trying to grasp something.

"Okay?" he asked once more, as if to confirm something, even though Fuji wasn't awake to hear it. "All right, Shuusuke?" his voice was slightly coarse and uneven his tone rose a little, as if trying to invoke a response from him. His finger was pressing the soft skin of Fuji's lips with a gentle downward pressure while a deep frown crossed his own lips, for he didn't know what exactly there was to do. His form cast a shadow across Fuji, blocking away the moonlight.

. Even though he knew it would cause future problems, and even the possibility of emotional problems with Fuji later, he leaned down and brushed a soft, yet lingering kiss to Fuji's lips. Fuji had never liked being kissed by him, but unconscious his body was frighteningly silent and still. Fuji's lips were slightly moist, giving stark contrast to his dry, chapped lips. The kiss lingered for a minute or so before he drew back completely, as if to give apologies to the unconscious Fuji. His lips tingled slightly, but he knew Fuji would've disapproved. Awake, he would've pushed him away. Only slightly, Fuji shifted beneath the sheets, his arm tugging at the IV slightly before coming to a rest.

It didn't hurt to dream, though, did it?

No, he supposed not.

Fuji's lips creased into a frown and without thinking, Tenshi mimicked the gesture, slightly worried about it. With the boy's eyebrows creased, it looked as if he was in slight pain. However, the doctor hadn't given any painkiller since there wasn't a point. After all, he was unconscious. Only if he was awake and needed the painkillers would they be administered. Could people feel pain in the perpetual darkness Fuji was currently immersed in? Something in his mind told him that yes, it was possible, but he wasn't at all sure.

There was an audible groan, and Tenshi's head snapped forward in Fuji's direction. Hazy blue eyes were open, staring up at the blank white ceiling above. Maybe he hadn't had the strength to move his head. Speechless, Tenshi wasn't able to find his voice before Fuji spoke. Obviously, he hadn't noticed Tenshi yet. "Am I dead?" _Is this what death is like? Boy, was the world on the wrong track. I can't even move._ There was still a visible frown on Fuji's face. However, he was slowly beginning to settle, as if the peace of death was lulling him.

"No, Shuusuke," his voice suddenly came back, and he answered quickly. It took a few minutes, but finally, Fuji was able to move his head, perhaps painfully so, but to a degree where he was able to see Tenshi. The leg that was slung swung slightly, but didn't come undone from the sling. A small smile was on Fuji's lips now, as he looked over at Tenshi through glassy, clouded eyes. However, he still looked as if he was in pain, and Tenshi wished that he were able to stop it. With his fingers tracing Fuji's jaw lightly, he tried to think of some sort of way to console him. After all, despite the smile, Fuji had a look of pain about him, and it was probably strong of him not to be complaining of it.

"Hey…" his voice was weak and soft, just like the tone of voice he'd used with Tezuka when he'd initially been hit. Tenshi noticed he was trying to move his free hand, though his muscles didn't seem to be cooperating very well. Without though, Tenshi took it, his fingers grasping the skin lightly; Fuji's eyelashes fluttered slightly, and it became obvious to him that Fuji wasn't any more than half-way awake, if not "delirious".

"How are you, he asked, wishing to break the silence." Tenshi was able to see a small amount of vulnerability in Fuji as a result of the injury, and he looked rather helpless. Tenshi didn't like to see him like this, looking like such an inept child, especially since though Fuji was still technically a child, he was nowhere near inept; still, though, he looked in need of comfort from a friend. Lightly, he rubbed Fuji's palm, the boy's eyes drooped slightly again, but he was trying to have a war with the unconscious world, as he struggled to stay awake. Thing fibers of pain passed through Fuji's eyes, and he seemed to have trouble focusing in on Tenshi. Maybe that's what the doctor had meant when he was talking about Fuji having trouble with his eyesight. Hopefully Fuji wouldn't have to wear glasses, or worse, end up going blind in the end. Tenshi himself wasn't able to imagine a world without eyesight.

"Hurts," he murmured, eyes half closed, and the first words that he spoke of his pain. "Feels like somebody beat me with a baseball bat." The bandages on his head must've been irritating hand, because for a moment, he was about to reach up to scratch his forehead with his other hand, the one with all the needles in it. Tenshi stopped him for fear of him pulling out one of the more vital IV's.

"Don't do that," he felt like the old man, reprimanding like that. "Watch how you move. You're hurt." His voice was a silent whisper, but Fuji seemed to hear and immediately he stopped fidgeting. However, that didn't stop him from clasping Tenshi's hand lightly, something he would never have done in a normal situation. Tenshi was just there, and he felt in need of somebody's support. In a way, he was grateful. Tenshi was always there when he needed him.

"What happened?" The words passed Fuji's lips in a sluggish manner, and it made Tenshi begin to wonder if he was able to remember why he was here, or if he had actually forgotten the accident altogether, and had no idea what was going on. He wanted to ask Fuji what he had been thinking, and he wanted to be able to cure Fuji's pain with the sweep of his hand. Neither seemed possible, though, and though Fuji was calm, Tenshi was growing more and more desperate by the minute.

"Don't you remember, or did you hit your head harder than it seemed like?" he asked, hoping that it wasn't true that Fuji was suffering from memory loss. At a soft and clueless look from Fuji, he took it as his answer. Giving Fuji's fingers a small squeeze, the only thing he could think of was that he was thankful that Fuji remembered him, at least. "You were hit by a car. You've been unconscious for almost two days now." It took a moment for Fuji to absorb the words. He blinked softly, as if what Tenshi said had provoked a reaction in his mind.

"Ah," he said, squinting as if the little light in the room was paining his eyes, though the room was dim and there wasn't much light in the room at all. Fuji was keeping a good and tight hold on his hand, but it wasn't very strong; Tenshi could've pulled his hand away if he wanted to. The grip on his fingers was just slightly squeezing, in an almost comforting manner. "Was I walking with Tezuka?" he asked. "Everything after that is… blank." Fuji closed his eyes and couldn't help but yawn.

"Yes, you were." Part of him, an evil, selfish part, wanted it to be that Fuji had forgotten Tezuka, but even the name was spoken with a certain fondness that Tenshi could only detect after getting to know Fuji on a very personal level. He mentally slapped himself for wishing so, and was reminded that he should be grateful that Fuji's memory seemed fully intact. "Nobody knows what you were thinking, Fuji, walking right out in the middle of the intersection like that." If he couldn't remember being hit by the car, then he wouldn't be able to remember what was going through his head at the moment. "I… I thought that you were going to die, for a minute there." His voice shook, and with his free hand, he wiped some stray tears from his eyes, realizing that they were only there because he cared so deeply for Fuji, and if he lost him, he would have nobody left. "Don't scare me like that again." His voice was firm, stern, and in the sort of tone a parent would use towards a child.

"Tezuka was even worried about you," Tenshi told Fuji, hoping that would be a reassurance to Fuji, and an incentive to never do something like that again. "He tried his best to not show that he was distraught, but I could tell. He was really worried about you."

"Really?" Fuji asked in a soft voice, as if he didn't believe what Tenshi said, though he was smiling anyways.

"Really. Promise you won't do something like that again, okay?" he asked, trying to reassure that Fuji would never be hurt like that again. Well, that was if Fuji lived, but Tenshi didn't want to be morbid. He wanted to be able to remain by Fuji's side, forever. Distantly, the warning the old man gave about gave about getting too attached sent up a red flag in his head, but he ignored it. The silence could be taken as a now, but really, Fuji was just getting up the strength to speak, seeing as he was so depleted of energy.

"I promise…" his voice was very soft now, and Fuji shut his eyes for a moment.

The clicking of heels alerted him a nurse had entered the room. However, it wasn't the same nurse that had been giving him trouble. She was a younger girl, probably in her teens, with her haircut very short and choppy, and dyed the popular shade of red. Probably, she was a volunteer here, not a nurse. She shuffled a little bit to the side, as if to get a better look at Fuji, and seeing he looked to be in pain, she looked at the chart he had clipped to the foot of the bed, she took a few steps back and gave a last look at him. "Are you okay?" Her voice was soft, and she spoke in Kyoto dialect. There was no response from Fuji. Brushing some of the bangs out of her eyes, she muttered to herself, "I'll get a doctor," before leaving the room.

"You should sleep for a while," Tenshi told Fuji, though he knew very well that the doctor was coming to check up on Fuji. "Shuusuke, you do look exhausted. Get some rest. I promise that I'll stay near you for as long as I can." He hadn't mentioned the fact that Fuji would need surgery for his ribs

Fuji looked exhausted, but as he spoke with the doctor, his condition was explained. That, and Tenshi found out they had been planning to do surgery within an hour, and after Fuji reassured that he'd be fine, the doctor bid his farewell and left. Tenshi wondered if Fuji was hungry offhandedly. As a nurse administered a sedative to him, Fuji's eyes slowly drifted shut once again, and when he was eventually wheeled away off to surgery, Tenshi found it hard to let go, feeling an empty separation when he finally let go of the now limp hand.

He hoped that Fuji would be okay eventually. He hated to see Fuji in pain, and his pain-stricken face was still haunting him from two days ago. Head hung low; he admitted that for today, there was nothing he could do. Even tomorrow, if Fuji were even awake, he would be drowsy and sluggish. Distantly, a shooting star streaked across the sky, a rare sight. However, Tenshi looked up and smiled, wishing for Fuji's safety. And he remembered his wish also of being able to stay near Fuji forever, to have a friendship at the very least that was never ending. The wish was vain in a way, and almost naive. How could he, anyways? There was no such thing as forever, though Tenshi liked to convince himself otherwise. He would cling to that thought, even though he knew deep down that nothing was forever, not even memories.

He would never forget the feeling of Fuji squeezing his hand like that, ever, the time in which he needed him, not Tezuka, the time in which he wasn't concerned with Tezuka. .

* * *

_falls over_

I need to sleep more. I didn't think I'd be on track enough after the convention to write this, but I was a lot more successful, even though I don't really like this chapter, either. So, I was supposed to add Tenshi in last chapter. Honestly, I forgot. So, this is more of his story, but expanded.

Again, if you spot any discrepancy, please tell me. I apologize for the brainless quality of this chapter. I read way too many doujinshi, and I've got too many practices for band. The two don't make a very good combination, and as it is, my mind's been more in the gutter than usual. Luckily I didn't go schizo/ADHD like I usually do. As of late I've had a very short attention span.

I'm not sure how soon the next chapter will be up. I'm going to have to stay at school late for various clubs, and other things. Study, study, study…


	11. Chapter 11

Kyoka feels so lazy, lazy because she hasn't gotten this chapter done by the time she hoped she would and she hasn't started studying for school testing and she hasn't talked to her counselor about the project for the advanced English class she will be taking and also coincidentally hasn't practiced almost any for the band performance next week. Yes. I'm lazy, lazy and sleepy. There's way too much going on.

Dude, you're overestimating me if you think I own this. The creator of Prince of Tennis should be honored for the absolute awesomeness of the series. I'm not cool enough.

Yeah, please read and review!

There is something I forgot to mention last chapter. The _patella_ is your knee. My dad fractured it when he got in an accident. He had to have surgery, I do believe, and he was wearing a brace for quite a while. Again, any medical discrepancy should be reported to me.

Ohmigod, I keep doing so many typos. Sorry. Chapter ten will be edited. I am in the painful process of re-writing chapter one. Paragraph by paragraph. Comparative so I don't miss anything. Yeah, so I've talked too much. Enjoy!

Warning: Doujinshi may cause loss of IQ points and chronic laziness. (Kyoka knows this from experience)

* * *

**To Sedate- Chapter 11**

Fuji's tendency to grasp Tenshi's hand was growing more and more frequent over the past few days. It had first been out of his drowsiness that he had done so. Half-awake and on a large dose of painkillers, Fuji was barely aware of his surroundings except for a light-colored blur, which spoke with a kind voice. Nevertheless, even in his state of eternal drowsiness, he was very glad that Tenshi was there. Now he didn't feel pain, partially because of the painkillers, but mostly because of a numbness that had overtaken him in this blurry, sleepy state where darkness constantly pressed at the corners of his eyes like the plague. Fuji didn't want to sleep. Tenshi was here, and the man seemed intent on talking to him, but doing something odd, telling stories. In such an unaware state, he didn't really realize that Tenshi was a pretty good storyteller.

The stories could be anything from simple, easy-going folktales that were enjoyable to listen to, or dark, suspenseful, well-told stories that made Fuji wonder if Tenshi made them up, or if he'd read them in a book somewhere. Fuji's curiosity had always earned him no sort of answer to that question, though. He'd asked before, just slightly out of his drowsiness, where Tenshi had gotten the stories. Tenshi would be difficult as usual and give him some sort of unsolvable riddle. In the mist of drowsiness, Fuji couldn't make heads or tails of it, and soon ignored the fact that Tenshi had responded to the question at all.

Throughout the time, he had drifted in and out of sleep, though his sleep was never really that deep. Tenshi had been there the whole time, or so he assumed. Fuji, largely unaware of time, would fall asleep for about a half an hour in the middle of a conversation and wake up suddenly without realizing how long he had been asleep.

Tenshi wondered slightly about his treatments in between this time, in which he would sit by Fuji's side casually tracing the line of his jaw. There was no doctor to come in and check on him, and it was so late that a nurse seldom came in to check. Tenshi had only seen a woman once that night, and that was when he'd been brought here. Then again, there wasn't much to watch; he was just still feeling the effects of the sedative he'd been given hours ago.

Fuji couldn't remember much from the past few hours, or even the past few days. Snippets would come back to him latter, of a look stricken of worry on Tezuka's face, that nobody except he had ever seen, a kind voice from a man named Tenshi, and the distant sobbing of an invisible face. Now, though, whenever he reached out his hand to try and grasp these thoughts, anything coherent slithered away from him in a frightened sort of manner, slipping through his fingers whenever he managed to get a slight grip on it.

Never had Fuji really felt such a mix of emotions before, brewing gently beneath closed eyes. There was a fear that Fuji was foreign to, because Fuji was rarely truly scared. There was a panic that made him want to thrash around in the uncomfortable hospital bed despite the fact that his body was completely numb. There was a desperation to get back where he'd came from, out of this hospital and up on his feet. Then, there was the slow, peaceful realization that he wasn't in pain anymore, and that he could finally breath without his chest constricting to the point that it felt like he was suffocating.

The hospital was very quiet tonight, though Fuji wasn't exactly sure if it was night or day. His eyes were closed, only opening halfway ever ten minutes or so when Tenshi paused to take a breath. Dimly, he was aware of comforting fingers wrapped around his, a grip that reminded him so strongly of Tezuka that pain forgotten, was enough in itself to make him suffocate. Light might've made his eyes sensitive, but luckily, here the light was dimmed, and Fuji thanked whoever had done it for him. For a moment, he was wondering if he was between life and death. So peaceful, floating on a sea between darkness and light, and in a way, a little frightened, he wasn't sure what it is anymore. If this was dying, then it was peaceful. Fuji liked it.

The rain was pattering against the windowpanes. It was yet another rainstorm—no, a thunderstorm. Every so often, thunder would sound, slightly painful against Fuji's eardrums even though it wasn't very loud at all, and a bright white light would illuminate the room for a fraction of a second, which Fuji assumed was lightning.

The quiet was lulling him peacefully again, yet once he heard a soft, familiar voce, Fuji's eyes would open and he would realize that he wasn't dying, and he was overcome with a sort of desperation, wondering if there would be more pain, or if it would be over now that this peacefulness had overtaken him. He pondered on it slightly, and was very disappointed with the answer he came up with for himself. So he changed it, making it a fantasy, even though he knew that the fantasy he'd created for himself was just as real as legends of dragons.

Then gentle voice at his ears guided him, and though Fuji couldn't open his eyes all the way, he could only assume that it was Tenshi. He had gotten to know that kind, deep, and heavily accented voice, something in which words of comfort were whispered in, and something where somebody brushed his bangs aside gently, fondly. The stories might have tugged slightly at his ears, but really, Fuji didn't understand them at all. His brain was covered in fog, so much that he couldn't think. Yet, he laid back and listened, perhaps in search of the softest sigh of the wind. Fuji had never realized how much of an emotional bond he really had to Tenshi, or the strength of the bond Tenshi felt towards him.

He'd lain there with a soft smile on his face as he listened to what Tenshi had to say. Surprisingly, really, he realized that before it had always been Tenshi who had listened to him, not the other way around. Tenshi never really spoke of anything serious, and Fuji was soon to discover that Tenshi loved mythology and folklore from around the world, most specifically silly little American ghost stories. All this babble was slightly blurred to him, as little of the stories had any significance to daily life. Fuji really thought that these stories were in place of Fuji's talking, because in the length of his hospital stay, Fuji had become more and more silent, though appearing friendly to everyone else, he preferred to listen rather than speak to Tenshi, listen while grasping his hand gently.

When Tenshi had first told him these stories, he couldn't really comprehend with his state, but he tried his best to listen, his fingers lightly squeezing Tenshi's. When Tenshi did it, he took it as a sign of comfort. After all, Tenshi's worry seemed to radiate. It became all too easy to tell what exactly Tenshi thought and felt. The darkness pressing on his eyes would eventually lift after what seemed like a long sleep, but Fuji began to miss the numbness he felt from the fatigue brought on by the sedatives after it wore off and before the nurse came in to give him another dose of painkillers. His whole body ached unbearably with pain.

His stories transformed from something simple and predictable to intricately woven stories that Fuji wasn't familiar with, stories with odd twists and turns that could be expected out of a suspense novel. Naturally, out of his boredom, Fuji liked to listen to them. He found them entertaining, and they kept his mind well occupied. Yet, to him, they always seemed like a work of fiction. Tenshi seemed to believe wholly and completely.

So, when Tenshi asked him one day if he believed in angels and ghosts, naturally he had only thought that it was an introduction to another one of Tenshi's stories. When he'd told him "No, not in particular," he hadn't expected Tenshi to frown slightly as if something about that worried him. Raising and eyebrow slightly, he shifted from under the sheets and took a hold of Tenshi's hand, asking him what was wrong. Tenshi had told him that nothing was wrong, but something about the tone of it worried him.

"Shuusuke, do you believe in ghosts? Do you believe in angels?" His hands gripping Tenshi's was light and gentle, squeezing, more of a gesture to comfort Tenshi than anything. The man would've liked to think they meant more, but he remembered that if the situation were different, Shuusuke would be far more inclined to touch Tezuka's hands than his. However, Tezuka was by far not a touchy-feely sort of person like Tenshi was, and that separated them across a sea of differences. He reacted differently, especially to this rather odd habit of handholding that Fuji had developed.

"No. Not in particular. Why?" There was a visible frown from Tenshi, and Fuji was beginning to wonder if he had indeed said something wrong, if he should've agreed with Tenshi just to make the man happy.

"Is there something wrong? Tell me." Fuji shifted more from the spot where he lay though he'd been advised by the doctor not to move. After all, Fuji had always done what he wanted to when it came down to it, and not moving seemed like such a pointless thing that Fuji sometimes forgot the rule and broke it. Who wouldn't? After a few days of lying in a bed with not much else to occupy his interest other than stray thoughts, anybody would get fidgety. "Did I say something wrong." Fuji was about to sit up, but Tenshi stopped him from doing so, eyes narrowed slightly.

"Remember your injuries. The one thing you wouldn't want to do right now is worsening your injuries. That'll just make you miss more school." Right now, he wasn't in school, though he was supposed to be starting high school very soon. After all, there would be a short break before the new spring term would start once again. Already, the doctor had said that he would miss at least a week because he wanted Fuji to go through a good amount of physical therapy. He was saying, too, that with Fuji going to such a large school it would be a good idea to make sure that if somebody accidentally bumped into him on their way to class that he wouldn't get knocked over. Either way, he would be missing school. The main point wasn't that. Tenshi had avoided the question, something very characteristic of the man, but not something that Fuji necessarily liked it.

"You avoided the question. Why did you ask me?" queried Fuji in an almost stubborn manner, simply because he was getting sick of Tenshi's tendency to make one over think things, making it impossible to figure out anything.He gave Tenshi a frown of disapproval, though he probably shouldn't have used such a rough tone. Giving Tenshi's fingers a light squeeze, he sighed. "Really, Tenshi," his tone was back to normal. Fuji didn't like these games that he played, even though it was characteristic of Fuji to sometimes play games like that as well.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He said, simply, probably the straightest answer he'd ever given.

"You don't know until you try. What do you want to say? You're a ghost or something?" Tenshi was unusually silent, but Fuji gave a silent chuckle, giving Tenshi's shoulder a playful punch with his least bruised arm.

"I don't know how to explain it," he shrugged. "Tell you what," he said, "I want you to meet somebody after you're all better. They can tell you what's going on." Fuji raised an eyebrow, and began with a protest. Tenshi cut him short, ruffling his hair gently and then giving his head a light pat. "You're a special kid, Fuji. I like that." Fuji wasn't exactly sure what exactly that had to do with the situation, if anything. After all, Tenshi had a tendency to say random things at inappropriate moments. In a way, it was to change a subject, and that was what annoyed Fuji most about the guy. He was always able to get in the last word of a conversation, and he would only give information when he felt like it, which was not very often.

The time between Tenshi's visits initially seemed like monotony. With his head laid on a pillow, he resorted to counting dots on the ceiling for fun. There were precious few things around to read, and the things that were around, he'd read about literally about around thirty times already. So, he was probably participating now in the dullest activity ever invented by mankind, speck counting. It should be a competitive sport, Fuji would think to himself. People would get an equal expanse of wall space on which they were to count the specks, and the person to do it the fastest would win. There had to be some sort of math equation to it, but Fuji was having a hard time focusing. The task of counting _all_ the specks on the ceiling was a grueling task that required a lot of focus, most of which Fuji had precious little of as of late.

Fuji Shuusuke, ever since the surgery to fix his ribs and knee, was very well known and well liked around the hospital. There wasn't much else of a place for him to go, so until his condition was a little more stable, they had decided to keep Fuji at the hospital for physical rehabilitation, though he was moved to a smaller, less-used room near one of the quieter corners of the place. The boy must've had an unusual charisma around older nurses. All the nurses loved him and knew him by name. Fuji was known among the hospital staff for his gentle, closed eyes and his contagious smile. He was talk of the employee lounge, and somebody who everyone seemed to know. Even Fuji himself didn't exactly know how this popularity had come about.

Every once in a while the doctor would check up on him. The stitches didn't have to stay in long at all, and soon enough they were out, though for what seemed like forever, Fuji's motion was limited so as not to aggravate where he had broken his ribs. Though the bandages on his head had been removed, faint traces of a scab still remained along with slight bruises on his arms and legs. His leg had been wrapped, and his knee was in a brace, but they had yet to put his leg in a cast because of the infection. Treatment on that was progressing finely.

With the aggressive treatment using numerous antibiotics, his infection slowly was faded in. The pink medicine the nurse brought in before each meal was enough to make Fuji gag, and that was saying something since he was the only one out of the Seigaku regulars who was able to drink Inui juice without any negative repercussions. (That horrid juice that made him black out once didn't count, in Fuji's mind, because he was able to bear all Inui juices except that one, and Inui had yet to top it off.) It left such a bitter taste in his mouth, and despite the fact it was in liquid form, was extremely hard to swallow. Fuji disliked it much. Wasabi sushi, spicy sukiyaki, and any of Inui's juice blends seemed weak as compared to it. Before, Fuji had never had a problem swallowing medicine, but he made a firm resolution to watch the sort of medicine he took when he was ill more carefully from that point on, because he never imagined such horrid-tasting substances ever existed in form of medicinal remedies.

The progress he made each day was more of a known scribble added to the chart clipped to the end of his bed. Whenever the nurse came in she wrote a lot, whether it be about how he was administered medicine, how much painkillers he'd been given, the state of his IV, and even how much food he'd eaten. In a way, it was almost a little too invasive. Fuji felt as if he was being intensely scrutinized, and it was a slightly uncomfortable feeling as compared to the scrutiny that he received whenever he was playing a match.

Fuji's recovery was shaky, yet oddly mechanical and well reassured. Nobody exactly could explain Fuji's sudden will to live, because the last time they'd heard, the outlook had been very grim, and Fuji hadn't been expected to live for very long at all. Here he was, struggling slightly, but with good reason. What had motivated him here in this stale, sanitary hospital was something one could only begin to guess at. As the doctor had said before, the power of a person's will could be an extremely powerful thing, something that could determine as to whether or not somebody would live or not. That will was making Fuji's recovery into a miracle, one that he never could have achieved unless he wanted it and reached for it. It was amazing.

"He must have a guardian angel on his side, watching over him," a nurse whispered to another one day. Fuji was smiling. His initial reaction to all those injuries had been very negative, and it had been expected that he'd die. However, his first time in two days where he was conscious with his sanity completely intact seemed to have given him some sort of jump start. With that out of the way, Fuji seemed a lot more motivated to get better. The boy, in other ways, was strange. He seemed to draw comfort off of solitude and would apparently talk to himself often.

On his second day after surgery, he met a girl who had reported his consciousness to a nurse that first day. The shy girl, called Arai Matsuko had started by poking her head in and checking in on him. As it turned out, her father was one of the main doctors here, and since she had been an only child and her mother had died, and the rest of her family was living back in Kyoto. They were living such an untraditional lifestyle with such isolations from the extended family, but the hospital that her father had originally worked at had been closed, leaving many doctors and nurses to find new jobs. Her father's work brought them to the city. Since her father worked there, and she was especially close to her father she came there often, helping the nurses out where she could.

Fuji found it almost as interesting talking to Arai as he did to Tenshi, though Arai was a lot less confusing than Tenshi with his riddles, and more down-to-earth. Over his time talking to her, which was growing to be hours a day, he figured out many random things. She was two years older than he was, and a valuable asset within her volleyball club. At home, she played the piano. Though she'd been taking lessons as long as she could remember, the only person who ever heard her was her dad and her lesson teacher; she'd never done anything too serious with the skill. She was, in a way, like Yuuta in the fact that she was easy to tease, though somehow when she got flustered she tried to hide it better and with more success than Yuuta did.

Perhaps what knocked him slightly off kilter was the fact that she was a lesbian, a fact that had only slipped from her mouth at passing chance, and something she'd begged for him to keep secret. In a way, Fuji found it a relief. If she were a lesbian, then she wouldn't be fawning over him like almost all girls did. In that way, he could find more of a friend in her than anything, rather than a person who blushed and acted strangely around him. In retrospect, he found it very respectable, for she was a proper young woman on her way to a career involving mathematics. She said some volleyball along the way wouldn't hurt, too.

Arai listened to him, too, and for that, Fuji was grateful. She was a nice alternative to counting specks on the ceiling when Tenshi wasn't there, and he found his mind more occupied when he conversed with her simply because she was closer to his own age than Tenshi was. The only thing that Arai had yet to learn was his own homosexuality, though she would probably be able to guess it considering that she had automatically been accepted by him despite her homosexuality, and that he talked about Tezuka a little too much for comfort, referring to him with a slight, teasing fondness. Fuji had voiced his concerns to her, especially about the costliness of his stay in the hospital. He was beginning to think he was too much of a burden on his family. After all, the combined costs of his actual hospital stay, along with antibiotics, doctor's fees, and the cost of the surgery couldn't be at all cheap. On that subject all Arai did was try and listen. Maybe she didn't know what to say, since it was such a touchy subject.

Though time passed slowly, physical therapy was a very unwelcome event, not because Fuji didn't want to get better, but because it was far harder than some people would've guessed. With damage to his leg and an ache all over his body, it was hard enough to stand up, much less walk in a straight line unaided. The exercise had started out easy at first. Fuji was given stretches to do to prevent his muscles from weakening. Then, though, it got harder. The doctor said they needed to get Fuji on his feet before the broken leg healed, so it was a challenge to get him to stand up properly without putting weight on the injured leg. Literally, two injured legs, though they weren't exactly sure what was wrong with the other one other than slight nerve damage. That shouldn't have caused the problems he was having, though.

A nurse would struggle with him for a good time, sometimes with the help of Arai, just to get him up on his feet. Then he was made to do his best and walk with crutches, which was becoming a struggle since impending nerve damage was proving to be more of a problem than Fuji ever would have expected. The ankle of his good leg kept quivering when he put weight on it. It didn't seem like a very good leg anymore, and combined along with his broken one, Fuji had almost no sense of balance anymore, and had nearly fell quite a few times.

Truth was, though his whole body had been affected, his legs seemed to take the largest toll, and with these injuries, hope of returning to a high school tennis club within the next school term was looking dimmer and dimmer. The doctor said he was lucky that he wasn't injured even more severely, or worse. The car had hit him at full speed, and it was perhaps by luck that he hadn't retained any head or spinal injuries. Fuji, though, wasn't sure if the struggle was worth it or if it would be better to be dead. Nobody was exactly sure if he'd have full use of his legs again or not. Sure, he'd probably walk again, but tennis remained in question. Fuji wasn't sure what still kept him at it when he had been planning to pursue photography, but he guessed it had something to do with Tezuka.

Fuji would frown upon his shaking legs and click his tongue lightly while struggling through the physical therapy session, something he would've breezed through if only it were last week. He probably should've been grateful for his upper body strength to make up for it, and would probably build up the muscles in his arms with this grueling therapy. The arms weren't, though, the concern. They kept talking about muscle deterioration in his legs, which would happen if he ended up lying in bed for a few months. Maybe that's why they got him up so quickly, to prevent that sort of habit from forming.

Tenshi didn't like that he was being so morbid about things. Tenshi was often stressing how much he needed to keep trying with all his might. Fuji wanted to tell the man that he didn't know what he was going through and how it was annoying that no matter how hard he tried it seemed almost impossible to walk, much less stand without aid. "Just keep trying," was Tenshi's firm resolve, something that wouldn't change, no matter how much Fuji argued. It wasn't like Fuji to give up like that, but everything seemed far too complicated.

When a woman came into his room about four days after the surgery, Fuji wouldn't have recognized her. She was quiet, young, probably in her first or second year at a local university. Something specifically about her grave, quiet eyes caught his attention. He wasn't alone. Tezuka didn't have a lot of time to come visit him, but perhaps egged on by Eiji, he had come. Fuji had a lot of visits, really. His family visited regularly, and he'd even gotten a visit by the entirety of the Seigaku regulars—Eiji had nearly suffocated him when he threw his arms around Fuji's neck. It was hard to believe that his days as a student at Seishun Gakuen were finally over. Fuji didn't really want them to be. Fond memories plagued him of his time with people at the tennis clubs, his match with Tezuka, lunch with Eiji and Tezuka, and even the day where he'd kissed Tezuka. Still, Tezuka had never mentioned it. Fuji assumed that the person who had once been his captain had just forgotten.

There was one thing that Fuji wasn't going to miss, and that was his sessions with Suzuki-sensei. At first, the woman had helped a little, but now, going to see her was just an annoyance, and Fuji certainly wouldn't have done it if he had the choice. His mother never really mentioned it or asked him about it, but Fuji knew that she knew. After all, she had been the one to first voice her concern about Fuji, and everything had merely started off that day he had collapsed in the hallway and initially spoken with the nurse in the infirmary.

"Fuji-san," she said quietly. Automatically, Fuji looked around for his mother. She was just being formal, but here, he was usually 'Fuji-kun' and his mother, who visited once a day at the very least, was known as 'Fuji-san'. When he realized his mother had already been there today, earlier, he tilted his head slightly, as if to ask if he knew the woman or not. Maybe there was some sort of gap in his memory, because he couldn't recall any sort of memory about her.

"I'm sorry," he said after a few minutes, using his arm to push himself upwards into a better position. Bringing his un-bandaged, un-braced leg into his chest with quite some effort, he tilted his head to the side slightly. "What's your name?" His voice showed the fact he didn't remember the women. Opening her eyes a little wider, she nodded and gave a polite bow, her thick, dark bangs sweeping in front of soft eyes.

"I probably should explain, Fuji-san. You probably don't remember it very well at all. My name is Iwajima Keiko. I've come to apologize." When she paused, Fuji's silence told her that he really didn't remember. "I was the women who hit you a few days ago," she said, her fingers clenching her skirt out of stress and her voice came out in a nervous squeak. Obviously, she expected Fuji to be angry. "It's probably not an apology you want, though," she said, quietly, in a guilty tone. "I want to tell you, Fuji-san, that I really didn't mean to and that if I could've stopped, if I could've seen you, I would have. If your mother needs me to help pay your medical payments, I promise I will. Goodness, you're probably so hurt. How are you-"

The women, at this point, was babbling mindlessly, and Fuji interjected, not intending to be rude, just to remind the woman that she needed to breathe. After all, it had been a good while that she'd taken a breath amongst this rather mindless talk. "Iwajima-san," he said, eyes flicking open slightly. He remembered in the back of his head lectures his mother had given long ago about courtesy. "Please," he paused slightly, some of the coldness that had been in his eyes beginning to vanish, "Sit down for a while." That was an oddly adult phrase for Fuji to say, even counting Fuji's maturity. His voice though, distant and cool, was the thing that really made the woman fall silent and gaze over at Fuji with an odd mix of emotions. With her legs trembling slightly, Fuji wouldn't have been very surprised if the woman collapsed right on the spot. Eyeing her warily, he nodded a little to stress his point.

"I really do hope that you're going to be okay, Fuji-san." Fuji's eyebrow twitched slightly. It had been the millionth time for her to ask that, and Tezuka only sat on the side and watched as the woman vented her emotions, with Fuji not talking very much. This was going to go on and on forever, he felt. He wanted it to be over. The women herself didn't seem to be annoying, but her worry was certainly more than bothersome. "Please, I understand if you're angry, but if you could find somewhere in your heart to forgive me," her voice was so desperate, so pleading. Tears were in the corner of her eyes, and the strong emotions radiating off of her was beginning to give both boys a stomachache.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Fuji repeats again for at least the tenth time, and this time he makes hand gestures to try and back him up. Fuji really isn't happy about the pain at all, but if saying that he was fine would get the woman off of his case, then he was all for it. She still looks so worried, and for part of it, he can see. She isn't very much older than him, probably a collage student. Here she is, caught in an inescapable situation where she hit a young boy, a student. Anybody with half a heart would be at least a little guilty. Yet somehow in Fuji's mind, she's overreacting.

"Listen," she said, reaching into her purse and drawing out a business card. "If you ever want to get in touch with me, I'm only a call away, I'll help you with anything that I possibly can. The phone number and e-mail address are on the card. I'd like go serve you tea when you get better, too." In a way, it only seemed like she was trying to hard to make it up to him, as if she was somebody who had made a bad impression and then decided that she needed to make it up in order to achieve something noble. She glanced over to Tezuka. "Your friend is welcome, too. If there's one thing I can do, I can make good tea, and I love having guests." She added, on a slightly more positive note. Fuji didn't look at the business card until he bid Iwajima Keiko goodbye. It was a strange one, too. Well, maybe she wasn't a college student after all. There was a word Fuji couldn't read in Russian, and under it, in a more understandable language, was the words 'paranormal investigation society.' Fuji tilted his head to the side slightly. That was strange.

"Tezuka, don't you think this is a little odd? Can you read this word?" he asked, pointing to the Russian word on the card while waving it in the air slightly. Tezuka didn't respond for a moment. Rather, he put his finger under his own chin and pondered, as if a little perplexed behind that stoic mask. After a few minutes, though, he came to a conclusion.

"It isn't my business to comment." The flat, straight answer left Fuji unsatisfied, and he set the card on the side table for later. The card itself might have seemed like a joke to Fuji had it not been so seriously put. This was a serious business card, not just a joke that woman made up purely for self-entertainment. People in Japan were getting stranger and stranger by the day. Then again, Fuji wasn't exactly normal by any means of the definition. He'd be considered odd for many, frightening by some, and annoying by Yuuta; this, Fuji had become greatly accustomed to, and now ignored. However, the feeling that he wasn't used to was the feeling of thinking of somebody as extremely strange in that manner. It was an odd feeling.

"Tezuka?" he queried, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you the least bit curious about it? It isn't every day you meet somebody who leads a paranormal investigation society. Would you like to come with me when I go to have tea with her?" he asked. He found the idea of a paranormal investigation society to be a very broad term, and he wondered briefly if she was one of those people who was obsessive about ghosts and claimed to be a median to the supernatural. People like that were always slightly annoying.

"Sure," Tezuka replied. This was his only reply, with the usual succinct sort of tone that Fuji had gotten used to. It was always like this; Fuji talked, trying to invoke more of a reply from Tezuka. Tezuka never really yielded to that wish, with his short, trite replies. Tezuka never seemed to like to waste words, where as Fuji loved to talk, contrasting their morals like night and day. At least he had Tezuka to come with him. Maybe Tenshi could explain more about the meaning of paranormal investigation to him. Fuji had the idea, but was torn between the investigation of haunting, the investigation of strange, unexplainable events, or maybe, perhaps, the study of ghosts.

All at once, Fuji chuckled slightly at the thought of the card, and Tezuka gave him a look as if to ask what he was laughing about. Fuji only smiled wider, for once, a normal smile from him. "As long as you come with me," he mentioned, as if Tezuka had asked a sort of silent question. "As long as you come with me, I will be perfectly happy." Clasping

Tezuka's hand for a moment, he brought it close to his chest. Tezuka's eyes were wide, unblinking. Tezuka felt his face growing rather hot, thought he didn't show any signs of a blush outwardly. Warily, he looked around, as if to expect that somebody was watching them. At that time, Fuji released his hand, and Tezuka brought it back to his lap. "The next time the nurse comes around it'll be to bring dinner." He said. Just like Fuji to memorize the times the nurse came around. Then again, it must've been boring at that hospital. He had nothing else to do. "Na, Tezuka," he mentioned, slightly. A voice interrupted his, though.

"Fuji-kun!" A nurse, with Arai following at her heels, entered. Fuji frowned slightly. It wasn't around dinnertime yet. Why was she here? "Are you up for some rehab? The doctor wanted you to get started on a more vigorous program so that you'll be back on your feet sooner." Inwardly, Fuji groaned. He didn't want to do any sort of rehabilitation right now, not when Tezuka was here. Arai looked apologetic. She knew how much Fuji really disliked therapy sessions, but there wasn't much of a way she could tell the nurse that. It was their job, after all, to get Fuji moving again as soon as possible, not to listen to a teenage girl about what she thought Fuji wanted or disliked.

"Sure," he said, though his voice carried the sort of uneasiness showing that he really didn't want to. Grumbling inwardly about it, he turned to Tezuka. He really had been enjoying conversing with him, and now he had to leave. Briefly, he wondered if Tezuka would be asked to leave, or if he would be allowed to come with. Part of him wished that Tezuka would be asked to leave, because in a way, it was embarrassing for Tezuka to see him in such a weakened state. At least Tenshi was the sort of person he knew didn't mind, and was less awkward around at times.

"Tezuka-kun," This nurse knew him, because she'd met him before. Tezuka didn't visit very often, but when he did, this nurse was there, so she remembered him. Tezuka really hadn't been directly addressed by anyone other than Fuji here today, so he looked a little surprised at the sudden attention. "If you aren't busy or anything, feel free to come with Fuji. I'm sure he'd love to have a friend there to help him out." In a way, the words were a devastation, yet a relief. Fuji would've been at least a little glad that Tezuka was there. Maybe the nurse sensed that he might try at least a little bit harder if he came with. Well, maybe that, or just somebody to carry his crutches while Arai and the nurse helped Fuji into a wheelchair. With these nurses, one could never be quite sure.

As he struggled to stay up on his feet, his leg shook with the effort, making Fuji frown because just last week, his ability to walk had remained unimpeded, and he hadn't had any problems with muscle weakness or nerve damage. To somebody who had never been seriously injured before, at worst, a sprain to the wrist, he didn't like the whole recovery process. It was all too foreign to him, and it was growing more and more frustrating by the day.

Crutches fell to the ground with a clank. The nurse had just stepped aside to let him try and walk. The woman's reflexes didn't seem to be fast enough, but perhaps Tezuka saw it coming, because before Fuji had a chance to fall to the ground, Tezuka was supporting him with his arm around his shoulder, and Arai was at his side, supporting him and fussing over his state. That was a girl's nature, he guessed, as he thought about how much Arai worried. She worried too much.

"Fuji-kun, are you all right?" Arai cried out, which in a way, reminded him of Eiji, forgetting the boy's "Nya" and "Hoi Hoi!" She looked at him, hair swept in front of worried eyes, and then looked over to Tezuka, who rather than fussing, was doing his best to support Fuji.

"I'm fine," he insisted to her, doing his best to do something of the sorts to calm her down. "Really, Arai-chan, I'm fine. Don't worry so much." Why did he have to keep insisting that to everyone other than Tenshi and Tezuka? They seemed to be the only ones who realized the fact that after a while, the question got tiring, and quite annoying.

"We should get him over to that chair," Arai mentioned to Tezuka. Fuji was shaking with the effort to support his own weight under Arai and Tezuka's hold. "Don't you think?" She asked. Without the help of the nurse, though with her supervision, they helped Fuji limp over to the chair in the corner. Fuji nearly collapsed onto it when they finally loosened their hold on him and help him sat down. The process was slow, and Fuji breathed a sigh of relief at the end.

Arai had never known him before this, so the shock of his condition never really got to her. For a lot of her time, she was around people who had been injured, who had crippling conditions, and people who had terminal illnesses. Because of that, she understood why exactly people got to be like this, and that it was possible to recover from this sort of condition. Tezuka, on the other hand, couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was hard to believe that Fuji, friend, teammate, and classmate, could've gotten so bad within such a short period of time, and as the accident played over and over again in his head, taunting him, he wondered why Fuji wasn't dead. Maybe it was just luck.

"Thank you, Tezuka-kun, Arai-chan," he mentioned to him, wiping his brow and taking a few moments to breathe properly. "I'm glad that you are here to help me." He was glad that there were people like Arai in the world, and suddenly, embarrassment forgotten; he was able to look at Tezuka and be glad that the boy, object of his admiration for the longest time, was there.

"We have no problem. It's what friend's do!" She smiled over to Tezuka, as if she had been asking him some sort of question that she expected him to answer. Tezuka only raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Right, Tezuka-san." She was so respectful to people she didn't know personally, like she did Fuji. That was such a contrast to Tenshi, who hadn't seemed to have quite gotten the idea of Japanese honorifics.

"Yeah," he said, quietly, in a sort of tone that sounded almost like a question. Pushing his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose, he looked rather weary. Remembering that Tezuka would be starting at their new high school soon, Fuji wondered if he was really tired. It was so rare to see any sort of vulnerability from Tezuka that when he seemed weary, or upset, it was very hard to tell over what, or if he actually was at all tired.

Tezuka glanced at the clock on the wall. To Fuji the hand was slowed. Time in this hospital always went far too slow for his liking. He wanted to leave here. He wanted to be by Tezuka more. He wanted to go _home._ However, Tezuka seemed to notice the time. "I really need to go," he said. It was getting pretty late, wasn't it? Tezuka probably needed to be home on his parents' request. After bidding his farewells, Tezuka left, and Fuji felt slightly emptier inside. Sighing, he turned his head to the nurse, and then to Arai, who smiled and looked ready to give words of comfort.

Among such a bleak place as this, Fuji was more than grateful for a person like Arai, who gave gentle, comforting words when he needed it. In his short days there, Fuji had found a friend, and for what would make the millionth time recently, he was hugely grateful.

Accident and struggles weren't thrown aside, though, and Fuji felt like they were plaguing his mind, so strong that he couldn't push them away. Closing his eyes slightly, he exhaled. Maybe that's what only could be expected.


	12. Chapter 12

Little by little, I'm beginning to hate this more and more. There shouldn't be much more that I'm planning to do, six or seven chapters at the most unless something else happens to prolong that.

Please review; reviews are what help keep me going when my muses have quit on me or are beating me up for some reason or another. Any advice, input, observations, or constructive criticism is _greatly _appreciated. Thank you, thank you to all my reviews before. I really appreciate it when I get feedback. I am sorry about not posting this earlier. With band, exams, family, and everything else, I haven't had much of any time to write for the past two weeks.

As always, the disclaimer is the same. I am in no way affiliated with the creator or animators creating the series in either manga form or anime form. All rights are reserved to the copyright holders, and I am only borrowing the characters created by them for a while. However, the characters I have created, along with the plot, are of my own creation.

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**To Sedate- Chapter 12**

Fuji was beginning to strongly dislike the liquid medicine he was being given every day for many reasons, not just because of fact that it made him gag, but the horrible aftertaste that it left him with. Always, Fuji would end up with an unbearably bitter taste on his lips, and it would end in him downing a few glasses of water too quickly for his own good. Now he was reminded of how Momoshiro or Eiji had reacted when first asked to drink Inui juice. They had been frightened by the bright, almost neon color and the awful smell. Fuji, however, with his strange taste buds, enjoyed it. Now, he felt himself gag at the very smell of that medicine. Surely, it could be used as some sort of torture device. In Fuji's eyes, if they wanted to get information out of somebody, they should keep giving them the medicine until they snapped.

This was all to fight off infection, and though the infection was now almost gone, it still seemed like they were shoving amazing amounts of medicine down his throat, be it in pill form or liquid form. Really, Fuji shouldn't have complained, but he didn't like having to take so much medicine. It made him feel like he was sickly. The doctor kept telling him that it was to make sure that the infection didn't come back, but sometimes he had to wonder if that was what it was really meant for.

Now he was feeling lucky. After three and a half weeks in the hospital, three and a half boring, uneventful, trying weeks, he was going to be allowed to go home, though on severe conditions. He wasn't allowed any strenuous physical activity until he was fully healed, which ruled out tennis. They told him that until he was able to walk and stand with his legs stable, he wouldn't be allowed to walk up stairs. His mother had already agreed with him that she would set up a futon in the downstairs living room for him. Fuji might have grumbled, but the doctor kept saying that he was lucky he wasn't one of the types of people who needed to stay in intensive care for months on end in a coma. Fuji didn't feel so lucky. The hospital was such a miserable place, and with a certain monotony settling into his life, Fuji felt like he would sooner die from insanity than be permitted to return home.

Yet, what really bothered him was the fact that he was advised not to go to school until his broken leg was completely healed. Sure, usually, he would be allowed to, but with the state of his other leg, they wanted full support from that one before he tried walking around his school. Sure, he was still on break, but not for long. High school was starting very soon, and he was going to at least miss the first week or two of it. Fuji felt pathetic in that, though Yuuta had tried to console him whenever he managed to come to visit him after school, which was something that surprised Fuji. Yuuta had never thought of doing such a thing before the incident. His and Yuuta's bond had become strong. Without tennis on his mind, he began to worry about his older brother. They still had their spats, or at least from Yuuta's point of view. Fuji loved to tease his younger brother, but he was happy to see that Yuuta was at least giving him a little affection, as a brother should.

"How are you walking?" Each day, when he saw Tenshi, he was asked that question, and it was funny that when Tezuka came for one of his seldom visits, he also asked the same. Maybe it had gotten harder for Tezuka to come see Fuji anymore. Now, it seemed like Tezuka had been so strongly affected by that physical therapy session. He never seemed to come any more, despite the fact that his visits before had been pretty frequent. There was an inner pain brewing within Tezuka that Fuji could sense. Trouble was, Fuji didn't know what it was. Tezuka never spoke of it and denied the idea when asked. Maybe, he had a girlfriend or something that was giving him trouble, or there were problems going on at home. Fuji really did know better now than to ask. All he would receive from the stoic ex-captain would be a generic "It's nothing."

His bonds with Tezuka lately had been strange. Fuji liked to be close to him, and it seemed that after all the time, Tezuka was finally beginning to notice Fuji's fondness of him. The idea seemed to frighten him a little, that, or confuse him. Whenever Fuji tried to get close to him, he would make a comment about how the gesture wasn't proper. Every time he said that, Fuji felt a tearing pain through his heart, even though he knew it was the truth. (The truth hurt sometimes, though, didn't it? They were too young to be taken seriously for such a thing. They were both boys, too.

If people got the wrong idea, negative rumors would spread. Rumors could sometimes cut deeper than actual words could, and Fuji marveled at it. What would be worse than the rumors would be the reaction of their parents upon discovering said rumors. Fuji's mother was pretty accepting, but from the little impressions that Fuji got from Tezuka's, they wouldn't be as understanding. Tezuka's small family was very caring, but the idea that their son was gay (hypothetically) would probably upset them greatly. It always had to be about Tezuka, right?

So, sighing, he kept his hands tightly woven in his lap so that he wouldn't try out and touch Tezuka. It was becoming harder and harder though. Sometimes, he would unconsciously lift his hand and it would quiver over the sheets before dropping again. Tezuka could nearly make his heart stop by placing his hand gently over the one that had quivered, only as a gesture to quell Fuji's nerves. Tezuka never seemed to notice what he was doing, since at other times, he commented that the gesture was inappropriate. Those little times were maddening. Every time, a strange heat overcame Fuji, and he would have to swallow and stay still. Through a spinning world of confusion, Fuji felt like he was falling more and more hopelessly in love. He didn't want that, even though it only came faster when he tried to shove it away.

Sometimes, he still wondered about that kiss, touching his lips every so often when he was alone. Vivid memories cut through his thoughts easily, tearing the fabric of his very consciousness. All of it had happened so fast, but the feeling of such heat drove his mind and body to a sort of frenzy. Passion, Fuji soon learned, could either be short-lived, or long-lived, strong, or weak. It wasn't that Fuji didn't want to let it go; he couldn't. Whenever he tried, it hurt too much, and he'd have to push himself still closer to stone-cold Tezuka.

To let go, or not to let go; the question was based off an old, yet still famous quote from a famous Shakespearian play. Fuji was quite sure that play's name had been Hamlet, but he could never be quite certain. To let go mean pain, but it also meant a final freedom. Not letting go also meant pain. Fuji would be caught in a vicious cycle. One seemed far more tempting than the other; somehow, though, Fuji was still unable to bare the pain of finally forgetting Tezuka. It was too much.

That passion couldn't be killed, at least in Fuji's case. No matter how painful or undesirable, it was impossible. Though softened sometimes by Tenshi or Arai's comforting words, it never completely vanished. His mother never knew. Fuji was getting better and better at hiding such agony behind his smile. Before, that sort of mask had been meant for anger, and above all, was his poker face. Nowadays, the only purpose it seemed to serve was shielding the weaker side of him from the rest of the world.

Tenshi taught him certain philosophies of life, even though he never put them into words. Tenshi was an odd sort of person, Fuji though. His way of thinking certainly wasn't anything he'd ever seen before. He was such a positive person, who didn't seem to understand the meaning of hardship when it came to goals. From that, Fuji had learned that it was better to use both instinct and rational thought in companionship with each other. Going into things was brash, but second-guessing somebody's first instinct wasn't very good. Tenshi taught him the meaning of that. Now he was learning to find proper balance, like yin and yang. That was much like Tezuka and Tenshi, who seemed to be foils of each other. Tezuka, with his dark hair, slightly lighter eyes, and silent personality was like a shadow to the light-haired, dark-eyed, charismatic Tenshi. Tezuka was normal, and Tenshi was very, very strange.

Tenshi was just funny in general. Fuji found him odd in almost every aspect. From what he said, to what he did, to the stories that he told, there seemed to be nothing that could be considered very normal about Tenshi. Psychologists would probably be in some sort of frenzy over his odd character and strange morals. That was, except for Tenshi's strong loyalty. Tenshi was almost like a dog would be to Fuji. Drawn to Fuji, he stayed by Fuji's side whenever possible. He was kind to Fuji, and listened to whatever. He was a true friend in the sense that he provided support and a kind ear. Fuji got the sense that Tenshi wasn't sure about Tezuka, but he supported him wholeheartedly about it. He always told Fuji that if he wanted to be with Tezuka, then he should shoot for it. In case of rejection, if Fuji ever got up the courage, he felt that Tenshi would always be there for him.

That feeling in itself was irreplaceable. Fuji would never forget how great it was.

Even when he finally got to go home, Tenshi was there by his side. After his family had gone off to do their own things, and Fuji was left alone to pass time by either reading or watching television, Tenshi was there. That was when his mom couldn't, because she did a pretty good job of keeping near him to make sure that he son was well taken care of. Then, in a contrast to his feelings of despair around Tezuka, he was at peace, almost like he was able to sleep by Tezuka's side without having to worry. Tenshi's affection irked him, in a way.

At first, the man had been bursting full of it, and then he withdrew completely as if some strong force withheld him. Tenshi's signs of affection were more frequent as of late, and slightly bothersome. The man seemed paranoid now about people seeing them, though Fuji had long since come to the conclusion that the man was some sort of hallucination. Nobody ever seemed to see him, and besides, if Tenshi had been real, his mother would have screamed at the top of her lungs ages ago because she realized there was a stranger in the house that was chasing Fuji around.

"So, how are you walking today?" That was what Tenshi had been asking him at least once everyday for what seemed like forever. Today, Fuji had his broken leg propped on another chair with as many pillows Fuji's mother could fit. It was slightly swollen, so her intent had been to keep it elevated. Fuji was feeling slightly uncomfortable, and his leg was beginning to go numb. Tenshi, on the other hand, looked quite comfortable lying on his stomach on the floor, with his chin resting in the palm of his hand.

"I'm fine," had been very repetitive, but Fuji still said it over and over again. As if the tape player was rewinding, Tenshi frowned. This scene occurred daily. He stood up slowly and sat next to Fuji, drawing his knees up to his chest in a rather childlike manner. Fuji sometimes wondered how old the man was. Fuji was feeling déjà vu for about the umpteenth time.

"Hey, Shuusuke, why don't you tell me what's on you mind? Maybe I would be able to help you out." He'd been saying this since day one, but there was nothing that he was able to do with Fuji's broken leg or Tezuka. Tenshi knew it, but he still liked to ask. Asking such seemed to gratify him, as if his duty was to make sure that Fuji was fine when clearly, he was not. The question, which had been repeated so many times, made Fuji squint. All the days would blur into one, and he would give himself a headache sometimes when he tried to think of how many times Tenshi had asked him that. Those thoughts brought him back to that cold dreary day when he had first met the man. Fuji shivered at such thoughts. He didn't really like them.

"You always ask me that, Tenshi." Fuji said it with a slight chuckle. At least it wasn't a frown, though Tenshi. A frown was the last thing he liked to see on Fuji's face. "No, I'm fine. There isn't anything I'm thinking about that you don't already know about." Did it look like he was talking to thin air? If his mother were around, would she get worried about the mental state of her son? His eyes were closed gently. Sometimes, Tenshi wondered what sort of emotions brewed beneath those eyes. After all, some people said they were into a window into a person's soul. Albeit, Fuji seemed to perceive happiness through closed eyes, Tenshi felt as if he couldn't be completely sure anymore.

"Just wondering," he replied in a pensive tone. "I worry, you know. You haven't proven to me that worry is unwarranted." If the Tenshi who he had been a long time ago had heard that, it would've been unspeakable. He sounded uncannily like a parent.

"You sound like my mother," Fuji said in a slightly exasperated tone. Dark eyes blinked, looking over to Fuji. Only smiling and chuckling, he returned to his original position on the floor, with his chin supported under the palm of his hand.

"Really, Shuusuke. You give me every reason to worry as much as your mother does. As time goes on, it seems that you've just been getting yourself into more and more trouble. Has somebody cast a curse on you, or are you just trying to get hurt?" For a moment, it looked like Fuji was going to reply to what Tenshi said, but soon thought better. Shaking his head slightly in disapproval of the statement, he closed his mouth and disregarded it. After a few minutes of silence, Tenshi seemed a little ruffled at the fact that Fuji was ignoring what he had said. Sticking his hand up in the air, he raised his voice slightly in protest. The gesture seemed hardly serious, more amusing.

"I'm serious! Curses are bad. One moment you think you're all right, and then the next you're being attacked by a mad dog!" Fuji couldn't take the tone he was saying it in, because it was so corny that Tenshi had to have done it to be funny. After all, only five year olds said such things. He shook with laughter, and Tenshi stopped what he was saying to stare at him for a minute. "Is something funny?" he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly. If not for Tenshi's strange expression, it wouldn't have been funny. All in all, this situation was very strange, and not even Fuji knew what exactly he found amusing about their current situation. Fuji put a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.

"No, of course not." He replied, though with little success.

Tenshi stood up and plopped down next to him once again, looking him straight in the eye. "You know, Tezuka's right. You need to keep you guard up. You never know when a part of the curse might sneak up and pounce." His wording was strange, and Fuji had to keep his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. "You seem to have a problem taking me very seriously, but who knows, maybe I'm part of the curse." He pressed his face closer to Fuji's and raised an eyebrow. "Eh? Eh?"

"You're strange," he letting the last of his laughter out.

"Yes, but it made you laugh, didn't it? That was my goal." Fuji stopped laughing for a minute. Though he was happy, he felt a sudden weariness overtaken him. With his eyes drooping slightly, he relaxed, his head coming to rest on Tenshi's shoulder. Breathing calmly, he enjoyed the feeling of leaning against someone's chest. He would've liked to think that it was Tezuka's.

"Yeah." He murmured. "You know," he continued pensively. "I'm too focused on Tezuka. I wish it would go away." Tenshi knew full well about what he was speaking about now. Fuji had always either been able to get what he wanted through the use of skill. That, or he didn't care about it. Tezuka was the one thing out of his reach that he really strained to get. Why didn't he get tired of it? Why was he so focused on one person? Tenshi was thinking to himself that it was silly to watch the two stay firmly apart when they could've been together already.

Maybe he was one of those "closet cases" After all, not everyone came to terms with the idea of homosexuality easily, especially when it came to _being _gay. Maybe even Shuusuke had gone through such a thing at one time, though he had obviously since come to accept the idea of being homosexual. Tenshi wasn't sure. In his eyes, Tezuka was the one who was strange. His mannerisms, seriousness, and involvement in school was what any Japanese parent would want for their child. However, Tenshi, who hadn't grown up in a society so focused on that sort of thing, was confused by it. Often times, he would wonder how a boy his age was able to act in such a way. It seemed like Tezuka never had any fun; his sole purpose in life seemed to be to excel in tennis, with a few strange hobbies on the side.

"Things will pass as they will," Tenshi said. The statement was probably born off Fuji's frustration that he would miss a week or two of school, on medical excuses, of course. Spring break wasn't that long before term would start up again. In junior high, it had become too easy. Everything was scheduled, and Fuji had grown used to it. However, now, he'd be facing the task of adjusting to a new club environment, getting to know new teachers, and many other things. The place would be unfamiliar. Fuji was even traveling more to get there.

Then again, it wasn't like that sort of thing ever seemed to have mattered with Tenshi's sort of morals. Not being as focused on the idea of school as Fuji was, he would often not be able to understand why Fuji went to such extents to get superb grades in his classes, even though he was already doing well as it was. Fuji had even talked about cram school, which Tenshi had learned to be a place that Japanese students went after school to study more, to try and improve test grades.

It had been a month now since he'd initially been injured. Well, technically speaking, a month and six days. That meant that school had started up again, though only for a few days. He'd missed his first few days of term, and it was a slightly disappointing feeling. Even with the excuse of his injury, his absence wouldn't make a good impression on his new teachers.

"So, why are you so upset about not being able to return to school? You've been telling me that school was stressful, so why not be glad that for a few weeks you get to miss it?" he asked. Fuji squinted for a moment, shifting lightly against Tenshi. The man put a hand on his shoulder to try and help steady him slightly. Fuji seemed calmer now, at least.

"Yes, but I didn't want to miss it. It'll be such a difficult start getting into everything that late. It wasn't fun spending the entire break, either. I'm going to have a lot of things I might not understand, even if we're lucky enough we can get all my work over here." He sighed for a moment. "I wanted to be in the tennis club." His voice sounded defeated at that, and Tenshi was able to sense what exactly he was worried about. This time, it wasn't just Tezuka. It was something deeper, more emotional.

"You can always go back to the tennis club," he said. "It isn't as if you're condemned to join something else. You're going to get better and then you can go for it again. All you need to do is give it a little time." His argument was valid, but it fell deaf upon Fuji's ears.

Fuji squinted slightly. The concept was becoming harder and harder to grasp for him, the idea of a complete recovery. Now, he was having so much trouble with even trying to stand up. Fuji was grounded, limited, cornered. Here, Tenshi was confident, yet knew nothing on the subject as far as Fuji knew. The idea of walking was becoming a blurred fantasy. Fuji didn't believe that he would be able to do it able. "But it's so hard,"

After all, it had to be remembered that before the incident, everything in life had come fairly easy to Fuji. He had been able to successfully maintain his position as a regular once he was old enough. Until his match with Tezuka, he had never tasted defeat, so much that when he actually was defeated, it made a bitter taste in his mouth. He'd been smart, calculating, and everything that a prodigy should be. With that came ignorance. Since Fuji had never needed to try at almost anything, the feeling of hardship was devastating, and Fuji didn't know what to do. It should have been one of those life lessons, but now, with so much that he already had lost, Fuji didn't want to stake anything else. His drive was slowly diminishing, leaving behind a weak version of Fuji that nobody had thought to exist. The side existed in all humans, but it was more exaggerated in the boy. Acclaimed prodigy of Seigaku, somebody an enemy wouldn't want to meet or challenge, and someone who hadn't been defeated in tennis until his mach with Tezuka Kunimitsu, wouldn't have ever seemed to be that weak. Sure, he looked fragile, but anybody who knew him or his reputation knew better than to think that he could be taken advantage of.

Well, that had been until emotions came into the picture. They destroyed Fuji like they had so many others, leeched him of energy and the boyish confidence he once had. Emotions _were_ a weakness, and Fuji felt them slowly sapping the life out of him. Surely, all love couldn't be this bad. His was, and he was growing to resent Tezuka more and more for being able to this to him while remaining so ignorant about it all the way through. Could Tezuka not see his pain? Could he not spare a little kindness and try and extinguish it?

All Tenshi could do anymore was make Fuji feel slightly better with his words of comfort, though not for long. He had never seen somebody so latched on to a single person. No, this wasn't something that happened in real life. Tenshi only thought that it happened in those silly romantic dramas. Yet, before his eyes Fuji was decaying because of his emotions, and though he was able to delay the process, there wasn't anything he was able to prevent it. In essence, it happened to all humans. Nobody was immortal, nobody was invincible; still, and Fuji seemed to be taking it extra hard, harder than most people would. He probably had clinical depression or something, but there wasn't anything that Tenshi would have been able to do about it.

"You don't know how hard it is." He protested, trying to sit up but failing because Tenshi pulled him back. In his state and position, he wouldn't have had the strength to push Tenshi away. "Let me go." He carefully removed himself from Tenshi's grip and sat back. Tenshi gave him a stern, disapproving look, as if he wasn't supposed to have said such a thing. Fuji wondered why. "Tenshi, it's hard. I've tried. Why should my legs get any better? How could I ever possibly be able to play tennis again."

"Because you have to try harder," he said firmly, tucking a strand of hair behind Fuji's ear. "You should remember that no matter what the situation, it's important that you do your best to get back on your feet whenever wounded." Fuji was having trouble comprehending it. Even after his match with Tezuka, his potential was something he was very unsure about it. Before everything, he'd expected that he would be able to make it. Everything came so easy to him before that he never had to worry. If he needed to defend his brother, he could pound people into the ground. If he needed to overcome any sort of trouble, he made it through with relative ease. Fuji now resented Tezuka for doing this to him. It had to be intentional. He'd never thought that Tezuka was the sort of person to enjoy causing people pain, especially ones that were classmates, teammates, and friends.

Maybe Tezuka just didn't trust him anymore, not with how things had been going.

"Fuji, this has nothing to do with Tezuka," he told him seriously. "All you need to do for now is get up and worry about yourself for a while. Get on your two feet and stop being so negative about not being able to walk. You will walk." The statement seemed to be spoken with such defiance. Fuji didn't really believe it at all. With shining eyes, he pressed his face close to Fuji's "You will." He said, with the softest of whispers. After lightly brushing a kiss to his forehead, Tenshi moved away before Fuji decided to push him away.

"Shuusuke! There's a phone call for you!" called his mother from across the house. She came carrying a wireless phone. "I think its Tezuka-kun," she mentioned before handing him the phone. Tezuka had never really called him. In fact, if he hadn't been the captain of the tennis club, he wouldn't have known how Tezuka got his number. Right now, his foggy mind couldn't recall if he had given him his home number or if Tezuka had gotten it originally from school records. His mother seemed to have taken a liking to Tezuka, though that was probably because he had been the one with him after the accident. He was almost like a hero in her eyes.

"Thank you, mother," he said, before putting the receiver up to his ear. His fingers cradled the phone shakily, delicately. "Moshi moshi," he said in his usual, bright voice. Tenshi drew lightly away from him, eyes flicking shut for a moment. He smiled, but Fuji didn't seem to notice. Shifting to a slightly more comfortable position, he pulled his leg to the side slightly. It had been pretty sore as of late. Fuji winced as his muscles took a few seconds to react.

"Fuji," sounded a deep voice from the other line. "I wanted to see how you were doing," he continued. Fuji smiled brightly at the thought that Tezuka was checking up on him. Flexing the fingers of his free hand lightly, he replied.

"It's nice to hear from you, Tezuka. Now what's that you were saying?" His question might have annoyed Tezuka slightly, but Fuji didn't mind. It would be nice to hear it again, anyways.

"I wanted to know how you are healing. Is physical therapy coming along?" Tezuka hadn't come to one physical therapy session since his first one, and Fuji didn't really blame him. To Fuji, they were dull, and a waste of time altogether. Really, it was too bad that he was being forced to go to them, now a few times a week for an hour or two at a time.

"It's going well, Tezuka. I'm getting better everyday." His tone was casual, intent on starting a casual conversation. "How is the tennis club there?" he asked, slightly curious. Surely, Tezuka had to like it. He liked tennis, so this was another way to further his experience.

"It's nice." His curt statement didn't surprise Fuji at all. It was much like Tezuka to do that, just give what needed to be said.

"That's nice, Tezuka. What homeroom are you in?" His questions were getting a little tedious, and the thought probably going through Tezuka's head at the moment might have been something like…_What is Fuji thinking? Is he so bored that he starts asking questions that shouldn't be thinking about. _Then again, Tezuka knew that Fuji had always been a little too preoccupied by the little details. Somehow, though, he seemed like he was trying to get at.

"1-C. You should be in the same homeroom as me, your name was called during role call until they realized you were out on medical leave." That was probably one of the longer sentences that Tezuka had spoken to Fuji. The fact made Fuji smile.

"That's great. I'm glad to be in your homeroom. It will be very nice to see a friendly face once I go back." This statement was more meant to tease than anything, and Tezuka sensed it. Tezuka wasn't exactly cruel to people, but with how serious he was, he didn't outwardly look like the sort of person who could be considered a friendly face. Afterwards, there was a pregnant pause, and Fuji began to frown slightly in slight disappointment. Tezuka had only called to check up on him. He wasn't at all interested in really having too much of a conversation with him over the phone. Tezuka didn't resent it, he knew that much, but he probably had other things to do, other, more important things. Tezuka hadn't ever been skilled at picking up emotions, but somehow, as if by magic, he seemed to sense the sudden disappointment at something strange. Fuji hadn't been himself for a long time, and Tezuka was getting sick of something worrying.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked. _Is there something wrong that you might like to tell me?_ Fuji was overcome by a strange anger that he'd never possessed before. Fuji needed to get a grip on his emotions. He was acting like a girl now, and it wasn't something pleasing to him. With his frustration growing, and his patience wearing thin, Fuji didn't feel like he had much else to do.

"I like you. Do you know that, Tezuka?" He asked, his voice deadly soft, in a dangerous whisper that might have even made Tezuka shiver in slight fear. The tone that could make anybody squirm wore away quickly, as did Fuji's expression. The happiness disintegrated into a look of fatigue. There was nothing from the other line, only silence. Fuji wouldn't have been surprise d to hear the buzz of the phone line when Tezuka hung up. However, he didn't, all there was happened to be an uneasy silence, as if Fuji had frightened away Tezuka's will to speak. "I have for a long time." Before he noticed, his emotions were spilling out before him, all in a tangled mess. His speech was a blur to him Fuji hadn't meant to be so rude, especially not to Tezuka, but he couldn't control his own actions at this point. He knew he'd feel rather guilty for this afterwards.

It all came too fast for Tezuka to voice his thoughts at all, and as soon as he finished, he pulled the receiver away from his ear. Distantly, he heard Tezuka's voice, soft and muffled now that he wasn't listening to it directly. "Fuji-" Tezuka didn't have enough time to say whatever he wanted to, because he was greeted with an unpleasant click, followed by a beep alerting him that Fuji had hung up. Tezuka, befuddled by Fuji's actions, wondered if he'd done something wrong. It was very much unlike Fuji to hang up the phone without so much as a single goodbye or at least a warning. Faintly, he was worried, but more startled than anything. After listening to the unresponsive line for a moment or two, he hung the phone up, replacing it in it's cradle.


	13. Chapter 13

I do swear that I'm going to end up killing myself eventually after this. I'm surprised because I wrote this fairly quick, especially counting that I got an idea for something completely different. What I originally resolved to be a 500-word prompt turned out to be a little rant of mine that ended up being 7000 words, and it absorbed a lot of the time I should've spent working on this.

So, for two days I did stay up until two in the morning in order to finish this. This is, in my opinion, a very boring chapter, but I needed to put it up in order to move the story along a little. So, Tenshi hasn't told Fuji anything yet. Tenshi procrastinates in my head. That, or he really doesn't like people to know things. –sweatdrop-

Disclaimer: As mentioned in the previous twelve chapters, I will never own the Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Oujisama. All rights remain reserved to the original creators of the manga and anime. I am only borrowing these characters for a while for my fanfiction. The things that do in fact belong to me are the plot, and any characters not part of the cannon cast.

As always, I love reviews. Constructive criticism's great, and they really do help me, I mean literally. Thank you so much for any sort of review you may have made in the past. I really, really appreciate it!

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**To Sedate- Chapter 13**

Fuji had quickly moved on from the activity of speck counting (because there weren't really specks to count at home) and soon found another slightly more boring activity. At home, there were two logical activities to do; he could either watch television or read. However, Fuji eyes would get tired after so many hours of reading and lying in the same position. Television, Fuji knew, wasn't something too interesting. There was a selection, but precious little that Fuji liked. During the day, oddities assorted the channels, including popular game shows, a few news programs, and lots of cooking shows. Fuji didn't mind the music shows that much, but he never watched them.

For the most part, the television remained off, and his mother was probably grateful for it because he wouldn't be rotting his brain by watching it too much. However, after he finally finished reading for the day, he either studied what he had been given (there was a nice girl who lived near him brining him homework and notes) or made lists in his head.

The lists were mostly meant to get his thoughts in order. He would count how many times somebody visited, what he had gotten done, and what he was thinking. So far his lips were neatly assorted. In the past week, Tenshi had been by every day, for almost every moment he was awake. He usually just watched Fuji read or study. The girl had come by every school day of the week, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. She had baseball club after school, so she usually came late in the afternoon before returning home to study. His mother came in to talk with him closely twice a day, helped him around when he needed it, drove him to his therapy sessions every two days, and cooked meals for him. Yuuta had visited him four times this week. Yumiko was kind and seemed to try and be nice to Fuji whenever she could.

Tezuka hadn't called once.

Fuji had been angry at first. He hadn't cared that he hung up on Tezuka or that he had spoken so rudely and so curtly. However, as the realization dawned on him how much he had said, and how confused Tezuka must have been, his anger slowly faded away, replaced by a slight concern. The more stubborn part, the part that showed itself usually only on the tennis courts, was showing its face. His mother would've been disappointed in him. That wasn't proper etiquette for talking on the phone at all, and with what he said, it wouldn't be surprising if Tezuka thought that Fuji was mad at him for some other reason. Really, Fuji wasn't. He was just angry in general. His emotions had been under pressure, and Tezuka had unknowingly pushed them. It wasn't Tezuka's fault, but Fuji wished it were so his anger could be justified.

Now the lack of communication with Tezuka was a much-needed release, and Fuji took it as a sign to refocus his thoughts, which was becoming something very important to him. To his mother's relief, he was appearing more normal by the day. Tenshi had been right; hard as it was to get his feelings out, when he finally did it, he felt cleaner. He didn't feel like he was going to explode from lack of communication. That was, though, not to say that once he made it back to school that he would look forward to meeting up with Tezuka very much. Maybe… Maybe Tezuka could just ignore it, like he had their kiss.

Tezuka, on the other hand, far away from Fuji, tried to go about his life as normally as possible. However, it was hard to do so because he knew that what Fuji had done was coming eventually, deep down. He'd wanted to disregard Fuji's confession a while back, a confession that Fuji probably didn't remember. Now, with how angry he had seemed, he contemplated on how he would speak with him on an even level. Tezuka, though, felt as if he had been pushed between a rock and a hard place—there was little he could do. Yet, now when emotions shouldn't have mattered, when setting things straight was the only key, Tezuka could not bring himself to speak to the Fuji. With such cowardice, something Tezuka very, very seldom felt, he was shrinking farther and farther away from the boy.

It was as if Tezuka had some sort of unspoken obligation to the prodigy, something that he rather disliked. He didn't want to have anything more to do with such things, but Fuji was his friend. It would be wrong of him to neglect a friend—Fuji deserved nothing except truth from him. Pity, because usually such an honest person. Now, pinned and cornered, with nothing else to do but hide, he felt like he had to lie. He had to please Fuji somehow, and free these wretched chains that bound him to the single person.

Tezuka was a lot of things, but he had never been one that liked to be caged by guilt or debt. Tezuka would pursue things as he saw fit, and the chaos Fuji offered was something undesired. His life would go on at its steady rate, with him going to school and playing tennis. Maybe somewhere along the line he would love, but for now, all his confusion over what Fuji thought was something he wanted to shun. For now, he wanted to be free from the pain of having to deal with love. Love could be wonderful, but it could be painful, like a double-edged sword. Feeling the pain of impact, Tezuka had decided that he wouldn't try such a thing as a relationship. One might call him a procrastinator for putting this off, telling Fuji the truth. No, Tezuka had never been one to procrastinate. He just didn't know how to put it to words.

The next week he was up walking better, using crutched and traveling up and down stairs with rapid success. He didn't need anybody's help; he liked to think to himself. However, he did have a nice shoulder to lean on. Tenshi's support leant him some reassurance for the day he finally was able to pick up his school bag and make the commute to school, with Tenshi following along with him like a parent would. He had to go alone today, though his mother had offered to accompany him this once. Naturally, he had refused kindly. At least he had Tenshi with him. However, with his odd limp, he would be greeted by stares and whispers after he parted from Tenshi. The school seemed to tower over the surrounding area much more than Seishun Gakuen ever had. Why was that?

'I-C' was written on a spare scrap of paper, one that his mother had given to him. It confirmed his suspicions that he would be in Tezuka's homeroom. The gentle chatter of students was only background noise to the sound of matches at the tennis courts. His feet had worn a path over the years to every tennis court, and he now instinctively ventured there without any sort of incentive except to see Tezuka. If he could avoid talking to the boy any longer, he would.

The structure of the club was generic, with the first years picking up tennis balls and observing as the second and third years practiced serves and volleys. Yet now, this was largely unfamiliar. The club was a lot bigger, and he noticed that among them were more familiar faces, Atobe Keigo, Oshitari Yuushi, and a few others. It seemed a popular place to go for his rivals, then. His eyes caught Tezuka, but luckily, Tezuka didn't seem to notice his entrance.

Club practice ended with the first years cleaning up while the others headed back to the clubhouse to prepare for the morning's classes. It brought back memories, just watching it. Mostly, the first years chatted enjoyably while remaining on task. It made him happy, though Fuji, to see this. As Tezuka headed back towards the clubroom, Fuji limped off towards class, earning strange looks. He'd recovered pretty quickly, but that didn't stop him from getting stares. Fuji, though he'd been out and about, had lost some muscle mass in absence of tennis. He looked visibly thinner. The uniform that his mother had ordered him was a little loose on him, giving the impression of fragility. Some of the girls pointed as they had in junior high, clearly interested. One even came up and asked him his name, stuttering as she spoke. Fuji simply told her his name and was on his way. She'd introduced herself, but Fuji couldn't remember because he wasn't paying attention in particular. He slid the classroom door open and closed when he entered.

The room had been like his old one in Seigaku, though a little bigger and lined with more desks. A few male students were chatting together in a group. They didn't seem to notice his arrival. However, he could feel that for a fraction of a second, the girls gave him an odd glance. "That must be Fuji Shuusuke," one whispered. "I've been wondering about him."

"What do you think happened to him?"

"I don't know. He missed so much school." They were obviously a gossipy group of girls. They were swapping stories, saying what little they had heard about him. One even claimed to have gone to Seishun Gakuen and have been in his old homeroom. Fuji looked at her. She seemed vaguely familiar, but not by much.

The rest of the class filtered in, along with the teacher, in the next few minutes. Tezuka was one of the last to come in. Fuji could feel his eyes on him. He put up his best and brightest smile. Tezuka seemed bewildered and nervous by something. Rather quickly, he took a seat at the opposite end of the room. Fuji didn't know where he'd sit, so he ventured over towards Tezuka until the teacher called his name. The rest of the class was making their way to their seats. "Fuji Shuusuke-kun! Please come with me into the hall." The room fell silent, without whispers. She was one of those sorts of teachers that all the students seemed to fear. Even before class, they wouldn't dare whisper in her presence.

Hesitantly, Fuji followed her out in the hall. Was he in trouble? He thought that he had been excused due to medical leave. She shut the sliding door behind her, leaving her class to break into chatter. With her, she had a clipboard, what looked to be his school record from Seishun Gakuen, and a few school workbooks.

"Fuji-kun, I wanted to know exactly what you were out on medical leave for during such an extended period off of time. It's been more than a month since term started. Can you tell me what happened?" So, the teacher did know that he had been out on medical leave; the school just hadn't disclosed information. She seemed like such a strict woman. Unconsciously, he straightened his back.

"M'am," he paused for lack of a name. "Shortly before my middle school term ended, I was hit by a car. I've been in physical rehabilitation until now and the doctor didn't want me to come to school until I was fully healed. He said that it wouldn't be good for me with the state of my legs and how I was walking." Surely, the teacher had noticed his visible limp. Fuji disliked it greatly. It would get better, the doctor said. Fuji wasn't sure if he was able to believe that or not.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she replied in an almost mechanical voice. "Anyways, I am Takanaka Mide. I will be your homeroom teacher this year." She handed him the few workbooks and Fuji took them, hesitantly at first. "If you have any problems, just ask your teachers, but Yamamoto-chan informed me that you have been getting some of her extra notes for the time you've been gone. I do hope that you'll study hard and not fall behind." Fuji nodded, mechanically.

"Yes, Takanaka-sensei," he replied, clutching the workbooks close to him. "I'll study hard."

"You may go back inside, Fuji-kun. You're seated in the front row, far left." Fuji nodded and idly went inside, while Takanaka Mide looked at the looked at the boy in surprise. The sound of the room didn't fall silent again when Fuji entered. Takanaka Mide flipped open the record from his middle school. Most were good comments. Teachers had loved him. He had been a kind boy, it wrote, in the tennis club, too. There wasn't much else other than impressive remarks. Remembering back to a boy named Tezuka, who had gone to the same school, their comments varied slightly. Tezuka's file had praised more of what an excellent example he set for the lower classmen at school during his third year. However, at the back of his file, there was clipped a medical sheet, filled out by the school nurse and signed by Suzuki, who she assumed to have been the school's therapist.

It made her frown slightly. "Psychological instability," had been scribbled onto the sheet, probably a few weeks after Fuji had been requested to take therapy sessions. At many times, she'd written in that she wished for Fuji to go see a professional psychologist. On the back of the sheet was written nothings about symptoms of clinical depression or bipolar disorder. No underlying cause was listed though. It said nothing about family problems, economic problems, or any sort of stress syndrome. The notes ended abruptly, and as she reentered her classroom, she took a look at the boy in the corner. Why, if they thought he had a mental issue, did they not pursue treatment? It wouldn't be proper to let a boy run around who they believed to be clinically depressed. It cold lead to so many problems.

Her new student looked slightly delicate, not what the teachers spoke of him. They'd always recorded him to be a strong boy, yet the one here had a slightly fragile look about him, a limp probably from that accident, and slightly pale skin. Around her, his mannerisms were perfectly normal, but she could now see it fading slightly. He flipped though his math workbook casually, reviewing the problems to see if he understood them, but every so often she would catch his quick glance over to Tezuka. Maybe they had been friends.

The boy bothered her in a strange way. He tried to remain happy, but as she taught, he seemed overly upset about something, and she didn't like to see him that way. There was a creeping feeling that she should have known something, or she needed to figure something out. She couldn't ask him, though, of course. Fuji Shuusuke was certainly a mystery. When it came time to go teach in the next room, she felt uneasy to leave him. It was as if she expected that the boy would jump out the window if she didn't keep an eye on him for every waking moment.

When the class was on break for lunch, she mulled over it slightly, but resolved to call the woman after school. Luckily she didn't have to supervise the students today as they cleaned up the school, so she was able to go home right away. Suzuki Sachiko, her name was. She hoped that the lady was still in her office, though it was beginning to get late. Her fingers deftly dialed the numbers and the correct extension. The phone was picked up rather quickly, after the first ring.

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Yes, please. Suzuki-san, I was wondering if you could tell me about a previous student. I'm Takanaka Mide, and I was wondering what you might have to personally say about my new homeroom student. His name is Fuji Shuusuke, and I was hoping to know more about what happened to him before he came to high school."

The woman fell silent for a minute, as if she was searching for a name. "Yes, Fuji-kun. I remember him now. He was an odd one."

"Was it really true that he was hit by a car?"

The woman paused. If this teacher wanted to pry so much into Shuusuke's life, then why didn't she get a first hand explanation from his mother? "I mean," continued Takanaka, "You report in his school record concerned me. What do you mean by 'psychological instability'? Did he ever go to that psychologist you recommended him for?" She was bursting with questions, though she wondered why this report had been located in Fuji's record to begin with. His psychological condition must have become a burden near the end.

"Fuji-kun was distraught over something. I don't really know what he was so upset about, but he was so sensitive about people pushing him around for answers." There was silence. "And to answer your question, yes. A car hit him shortly before all the third years graduated. Just curiously, why are you asking all these questions?"

"I just needed to know. Fuji-kun's been out on medical leave all year and now that I've finally met him, I'm worried. He looks so pale and thin. He doesn't have problems with his family at home, does he?"

"No, his family's a lovely group of people. Fuji's extremely close to them."

"Then what could be causing his problems?"

"To tell you the truth, Takanaka-san, I have no clue what would ever make him feel the way he seemed. His family was lovely and he clearly had some great friends. The boy was popular; he had no enemies. From my knowledge, he never talked to anybody about his problems, so your guess would be as good as mine."

"Then what's clinical depression and bipolar disorder about? If he doesn't seem to have any problems…"

"You called because you said that you were concerned," said Suzuki. "You said that he just seemed upset. His mother was the one who originally called the school. She wanted to know if Fuji had been keeping up and following school rules because she thought he had changed. In her opinion, he hasn't been himself in almost a year now." How could Fuji not talk to anybody about it, though? "I didn't get to know Fuji very much when I talked to him, but he clearly exhibited signs of clinical depression when I did. His mother refused to get him treated. She said that Fuji-kun would dislike it and that it would only push him farther away." She sounded a little exasperated.

"Listen, Takanaka-san, I don't want to sound rude about this, but that's all I'm able to tell you. I know very little about Fuji-kun, and the best knowledge you can get is probably from his mother." Takanaka was disappointed. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to be of a better help to you."

"No, Suzuki-san," she answered, "You were a great help. Thank you so much, and I'm sorry if I interrupted something." After bidding farewell she ended the call.

The picture of Fuji's upset face was well imprinted within her mind, and she mulled over it a while before casting the idea fully from her mind. Her resolution eventually was that she would make Fuji's parents the first on her list to visit. After all, the time for family visits was coming, and she would need to visit his family soon anyways.

"I don't understand why he ignored me, Tenshi." A few miles away, Fuji was walking home. There was tennis practice, but as a painful reminder, he wasn't yet a part of the tennis club and he wasn't exactly fit to do such a thing right now. Besides, his mother would be happier if he came home sooner. "He could've rejected me, anything. Why'd he ignore me?"

"He's nervous, I suppose, Shuusuke." Tenshi was in his usual spot, walking at Fuji's pace by his side. "You know Tezuka better than I do, and I still know that he isn't sure what to think of what you said to him."

"I know he hates me," said Fuji.

"Don't try and bring yourself down. Tezuka doesn't hate you at all. Why do you think he tolerates your presence? He wouldn't come near you or call to see if you're healthy if he didn't care about you." Fuji could've almost pouted, but he only continued the argument.

"That's because Tezuka's nice. We may have been friends before, but I've become such a burden. Tezuka doesn't like burdens." Tenshi paused and frowned in surprise.

"Don't think so lowly of yourself like that." He touched the top of Fuji's head lightly, fingers skimming gently across the light-colored hair. "You aren't any sort of burden."

"Of course I am," Fuji's arguments remained stubborn, keeping Tenshi from making any progress. "Why would Tezuka ever want to relate with somebody as weak as I? I probably couldn't even keep up with him in tennis right now. Tezuka wouldn't even see me as a worthy opponent anymore." _Maybe once, but now, not after all that has happened… _

"Don't think that way." Tenshi clapped him lightly on the shoulder. His voice was firm in giving the guiding command. Fuji looked up to him for a moment, eyes open. "You put too much blame on yourself." He put an arm around Fuji's shoulder for a minute before withdrawing. Their pace was steady, and Tenshi wondered why there weren't more people around here. Tenshi was steady, unending with his arguments, and as of late, Fuji was finding little reason to try and prove his point. Whenever he pointed something out that should have made perfect sense, Tenshi gave a contradictory answer that made very little sense at all. Tenshi, despite his illogical nature at times, always seemed to have the last say in his trivial arguments.

Yet somehow, this was able to make him smile as he though about it, to know that Tenshi really did care that much. Whenever he felt alone, he could think of that and remember it, though it was painful to know that Tenshi wasn't Tezuka. He paused and blinked, letting a sweet sigh escape his lips without commission.

"Fine," he said, settling down. How was Tenshi always able to win such arguments with no sort of logic whatsoever? It was as if he had luck on his side or something. Whenever Fuji was trying to argue a point with Tenshi that the man didn't agree with, he always had to end up giving up.

"Are you in pain?" a voice suddenly asked. Fuji turned to Tenshi. Where had that question come from? Tenshi might have just wanted to know, but he didn't like the question at all. It bothered him, for some strange reason.

"No. Why?" His reply was curt. All of it, though, was a lie. Fuji felt not only the ache of his legs as he limped slightly, but a pounding in his head. Maybe it hadn't been school that had originally been making him more stressed, but just being around Tezuka. He'd been so jumpy that day, as if he expected Tezuka would come up and say something bad. All that energy had been uselessly spent; Tezuka hadn't come to speak with him even once that day, as if he was trying his best to give Fuji some privacy and time to calm down a little. Fuji knew that Tezuka's actions probably prevented him from breaking down right there, but he didn't appreciate it. He just needed it to be over with as soon as possible.

"You're limping even worse. Are you going to be alright, or am I going to have to carry you home?"

"No, of course not." He answered. "It's just a little tiring walking this far after being in bed for almost a month. I just need to get my muscles used to it." He paused and frowned. His legs weren't responding in the way he expected them to; it took him a little more effort than normal to be able to walk forward. "The doctor told me that the limp would probably go away as I developed my muscles more." Now, this wasn't exactly true. Rather, it was just what Fuji would've liked to happen. He wasn't sure if the limp would be permanent or not. Smiling sweetly, he nodded to confirm it to Tenshi. Tenshi thought that at least Fuji wasn't complaining of pain.

"I want you to be happy, you know."

"What does that have to do with anything?" he asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Nothing. Just don't do anything to get hurt again, okay?" Tenshi was venturing off-topic, though it didn't seem as if it was intentional. If it was, he was only trying to get Fuji's mind off his limp and on something more positive. Fuji must have walked slowly, or tennis practice must have ended early, he turned and saw Tezuka walking. That was odd. The guy's home wasn't really in the direction of Fuji's. "Fuji!" The deep voice called out to him normally, as if no time had passed. Tenshi seemed to have evaporated from his side. He glanced around to try and find the man, but his eyes failed in the attempt. Tenshi was nowhere to be found.

"How are you healing?" he asked. Fuji remembered that was what his original call had been about. Fuji had remembered trying to avoid the subject slightly, but it was hard for him to remember anything else about it now except for the fact that he'd spilled his emotions so carelessly and that he'd probably given Tezuka the scare of his life. Fuji kept his head down carefully.

"I'm doing well, Tezuka." They walked together, and Fuji realized that Tezuka was eyeing the way he was limping carefully, as if to ask if it was hard or not to walk with it. Fuji could answer without him even asking. "The limp isn't a bother. I can walk just fine. I need to get my strength up, anyways." Surely, Tezuka could see how much muscle mass he had lost. Fuji was glad to be out of his house now, though. For a month, the only thing he was allowed to leave his house for was the physical therapy sessions that his mother drove him to; it really did feel nice just to be out and about for school and regular life.

"Hey, Tezuka…" Fuji felt the need to apologize, despite the fact that he was still pretty angry about the whole ordeal. "About the phone call, I'm sorry. I was rude." Tezuka looked at him curiously for a moment, but then cast his gaze to the sky.

"Don't worry about it." Why didn't Tezuka hate him for it? For a moment, he seemed slightly uneasy, as if there was something that he wanted to tell Fuji but he wasn't able to put it to words exactly. He struggled with it for a moment, but soon gave up in the process. Fuji wondered what exactly he'd wanted to say, but decided that he wouldn't ask because Tezuka didn't want to say it. Tezuka's eyes lingered on him slightly, making his heart beat irregular and his feelings go slightly astray.

"You remember that woman that we met in the hospital, right, the one who invited us over for tea? I was thinking of going over there before I went home. Would you like to come with?" Before, he hadn't really wanted to go over there, but if he had Tezuka with him, he wouldn't mind so much. All he could do is hope that he wasn't disturbing the woman. For a brief time he even wondered what sort of job she had other than being a paranormal investigator, if anything. Tezuka turned his eyes towards him again, asking in silence if Fuji remembered the address. "I've memorized the address, and her apartment isn't that far away from here. What do you think?"

"Sure," he answered simply. Fuji wondered about tennis practice enough to ask about it.

"Shouldn't you have practice after school today for the tennis club?" Fuji was genuinely curious about it, because he was still very disappointed that he wouldn't be able to participate for at least a while, if at all.

"The coach was ill today, and both our captain and vice-captain were too busy to attend, so practice was cancelled for today." Fuji nodded thoughtfully, taking the turn that would lead in the direction of the woman's house rather than his own. Besides, why in the world would Tezuka take any sort of interest in walking home with him? The district he was lead into was full of high-rise apartment buildings and a bustling crowd full of people. Why his regular route home was so deserted left Fuji clueless, but here it was quite more populated.

"This building should be it," Fuji pointed out gently as they ventured in. The apartment was far from a sleepy place. Two children chased themselves down a hallway, and at the front there were a few people chatting merrily. A woman made her way up one of the staircases, her arms laden with bags of groceries. "Anyways, she said that she was on the first floor, room 141," Tezuka could only follow Fuji's lead. The layout of the apartment building was plenty logical, so he only followed the hallway full of people until he reached the door labeled 141. Under the room number was the family name "Iwajima." Fuji knocked at the door. Surprisingly, the woman answered quickly, curtly.

Though wearing a trim skirt and a blouse, the woman's hair was slightly tousled, and she looked tired. Fuji wondered if maybe she worked the night shift somewhere and they had woken her up. Fuji hadn't meant to be rude. "Ah, Fuji-san! It's nice to see you. How are you?" Fuji blinked at the sudden rush of energy from her. "Come in, both of you. You can just leave your shoes by the door. I'm afraid that I really don't have anywhere proper to put them." The apartment had little decoration. The walls were white and aside from a family portrait, she seemed to have nothing else along the lines of decoration. There was a computer, though. A screen was up scrolling some sort of news report. Overall, the apartment was pretty clean.

"I hope that you like chamomile," she said as she set a kettle on the stove. "I know it's not the most popular flavor, but it's one of my favorites, and I don't really have anything else along the lines of tea."

"Thank you, Iwajima-san." She handed them both cups of hot tea. "I'd also like to properly introduce you to my friend Tezuka."

"Ah, hello, Tezuka-san. It's nice to meet you." Tezuka seemed a little befuddled by being referred to by such an honorific with a woman that was so much older than them. She was just being polite, though. Tezuka uttered polite words before going back to sip his tea.

Fuji found that it was always so formula to come to a person's house, a stranger's house, and have tea with them. Iwajima Keiko did her best to be polite and offer conversation, but mostly it was about how Fuji was healing, once again. In a way, Fuji was almost too sick of hearing about it. Now he just wanted to go home and do homework.

"Do come back again," she told the both of them when they had finished drinking. Fuji found it strange that she was living alone. If she didn't have a husband or children, why wasn't she still living with her parents? "I'd love to have you over again, if at all possible."

The visit had been quick, and Fuji wasn't sure what the point had been of coming. However, he was grateful because he was with Tezuka, and as they parted ways to go back to their houses, Fuji smiled. "Thank you for coming with me, Tezuka. I'm very glad." His hand brushed Tezuka's in a friendly manner. Tezuka furrowed his eyebrows in a very strange and un-Tezuka-like expression for just a minute. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," His curt reply was gentle, brushing lightly against Fuji's eardrums and making him smile. There was something sorrowful about it, though, as if something was making Tezuka very sad in a way. Fuji wondered what exactly it was. As Fuji turned away, Tezuka's voice caught him, making him turn back for just a minute more. "Get some more rest, Fuji." His voice was pressed in an odd order, but also made out of worry. It told him that Tezuka wanted to see Fuji recover, and that was enough for him to smile a little wider as he headed for home.


	14. Chapter 14

So… I did my best to put a lot of thought into this chapter. I'd say it came out pretty well. This is along with another part of a chapter—so I divided it into two. I'll just edit that one and I'll be posting it in a few days. It may be a little strange towards the end, but that's because I had to cut it off because it was getting too long to keep in one chapter. That and my OCD personality kept skipping around to different scenes.

Disclaimer: I'm only borrowing these characters. All rights reserved.

Note: I joined the gaian SuWriMos (Summer writing months) in preparation for joining NaNoWriMo in November. Please be patient. I got out this chapter among my distractions, but I have to write 50,000+ words by August 31, and I'm going to be pretty busy. I'll try and update regularly, but if I don't, you know it's that I haven't forgotten. I do, however, intend to finish this soon. The updates just may be slightly delayed.

As always, I do say to please review. Obviously, you're up to chapter 14. You've either reviewed before, or you haven't. You've been through thirteen chapters before this of the same note unless you're mad lazy and don't want to read the thirteen. Please, I will beg you to review. I'm never going to point a gun at this story or myself or anything, but I do really appreciate them. Hey, they really do help me think! It's not just a case of me wanting praise.

So… Constructive criticism is most appreciated!

* * *

**To Sedate- Chapter 14**

Fuji could no longer count the days that he had known Tenshi, or he'd been lamenting over Tezuka. However, he did as Tenshi said and tried to focus on his strength rather than Tezuka. For a time, it seemed to work. Fuji's mood drastically increased, and things were finally returning to the way that they once were. The only thing that was difference was a distinct lack of tennis in his life. Fuji was having a lot of trouble getting used to it, especially since Tenshi had promised that he would be able to play if he focused on getting his strength up.

He would improve, he constantly told himself. It was as if he had something that he needed to prove to Tezuka. Maybe it was as if Tezuka was watching to see what he would do next in a complex maze, to choose the direction in which he would travel. Fuji believed that he had chosen his path. He would continue to strengthen himself until once again he was well enough to face Tezuka on the court, and perhaps even be able to defeat him.

Now, though, he remained unofficially a member of the tennis club. He'd asked the club's captain and he said that he would be added to the member role once he could properly participate. His lack of membership didn't seem to have rained on the idea of staying around. Now, since he didn't have any club that he'd joined, he resorted to watching the freshmen do their duties while the second years and third years practiced, much like the routine they'd had back in Junior high.

Seemingly, with the unofficial status as a member, also came another role. Fuji had been given permission by his teacher to bring his camera to school given the circumstance that it was kept away and hidden in his locker until the end of the school day. Then, if Fuji wanted to, he could act as the club's unofficial photographer. In those long hours of watching the senpais practice as well as occupying himself with his own thoughts, he often got at least a little bored. It was nice that he could limp slightly, on the outside of the tennis courts and do his best to get a good picture. Given Tezuka couldn't really protest, he got a couple good snapshots of him. Tezuka had never really minded the camera before, but it was really Fuji's first chance to get a decent picture of him. Tezuka for the most part, seemed to ignore it.

Yet after a wounding month, and a particular family visit from his teacher, he wasn't sure of his family anymore. Well, Yuuta was something, but Yuuta could become very scarce at times, and there was only so much the boy would take of his older brother's teasing before he withdrew completely. Their time together after Fuji had been injured and recovering wasn't forgotten, but sometimes it seemed like Yuuta liked to pretend it was. It made Fuji a little sad, too. His younger brother got so upset sometimes, and Fuji loved him, as a sibling should. Yuuta might have recognized it, but he ignored it. The only thing that Fuji really settled with was that deep down somewhere, he knew Yuuta cared as well. He just wasn't vocal as Fuji was at times, and well, the teasing he was always bombarded with by his older brother probably didn't help it at all. Fuji couldn't see what was wrong with it. After all, a little joke never did Yuuta any harm. Yuuta only acted like it did, sometimes.

Fuji hadn't meant to listen in when his teacher made a home visit, especially because it seemed that she didn't want Fuji to overhear it. To him, though, it was strange and unavoidable to go and eavesdrop. After all, what his teacher was talking about had something to do with him, and before his teachers had never seemed to care whether or not he knew what his parents, or his mother, in this case, was being told.

"Fuji-san, he really worried me on the first day when he came back to class. Is there anything you can think of that might be depressing him? Are there problems he might be having with the family or his friends?" It was strange to hear somebody talk about him like this. Fuji swallowed. His mother wouldn't have known that he was sitting in the next room, listening to everything that they said.

"No, we've tried a little to figure it out, but I didn't want to push Shuusuke. He's always done so well, and I thought any sort of commotion about it might push him even farther."

"He hasn't told you about any sort of problems?"

"No, Shuusuke never really spoke about his problems. I always assumed that the problems he did had were something that he was able to resolve on his own. He started acting strangely a few months ago, but when he spoke with the school therapist, he never seemed very upset about anything. She said that he shows outward signs of clinical depression but there seems to be a lack of information. I made the decision that Shuusuke would need to tell me, and we would seek help from there if he needed it." There was an uneasy pause after that. "I didn't want to force him into anything that he didn't want to do, something that would make him resent me."

"Fuji-san, I don't think that this in the end is going to be about whether or not he resents you. It's not my place to say this, and I apologize in advance, but if Fuji-kun is getting involved in things that he shouldn't' be, then he isn't going to tell you. You need to help him before it's too late." The teacher had probably bowed low in apology for speaking in such a manner, but she continued anyways after a short moment. "I mean no offense, and I don't want to intrude into manners that aren't my business, but I am genuinely worried for Fuji-kun."

"I understand," his mother said softly in reply. "The thing is, Shuusuke likes to take matters into his own hands. I think he would prefer if he were left alone about it. If he starts to lose focus in schoolwork, then it's a different story, but I think that Fuji's always expected that as long as he keeps his grades up and stays out of trouble, I won't pry more than a mother should. I spoke the school previously about it, and they said they would do the best to help"

"We're talking about the emotional well-being of your son, here," The women said evenly. His mother didn't appear to be very upset, but her voice shook a little. Perhaps his change in emotions had bothered her more than he expected. Fuji didn't think about it. On the other side of the house, his mother bit her fingernails lightly with nervousness, and she appeared more worried than she sounded.

"I know." She might have blinked, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "Haven't you noticed, though? Shuusuke is much better than he was before. Maybe it was that accident that motivated him, but he's trying harder. I think that he's a lot happier now.

"I have noticed a slightly change for the better in that matter," she said, seeming satisfied. "Anyways, I think we got off to a rough start, discussing that. I do want to say though that your son is doing just fine in school. He appears… distracted at times, but I think he's putting forth a stronger effort now. He really has the possibility to go places in life."

"Yeah," she said it with a sigh.

"Fuji-san, is there something bothering you? Did I say something of offense?" Fuji could well imagine his mother's face now. It might have fallen slack of its usual expression, but now it was perking back up into the regular, happy smile. Eyes might have flickered open for a minute, even.

"No, nothing."

Their conversation fell into something more causal and normal, and Fuji's teacher never once again mentioned how Fuji had been reacting, or at least that was what Fuji though. He managed to sneak out of his hiding place unnoticed and shuffle up to his room to go study and allow his mother to finally speak in peace, and to be able to think that he hadn't heard their conversation.

The next day at school, Fuji thought little of it, but he'd woken up early and decided to come in early. His morning routine had become monotony. His legs still ached slightly from time to time, even when they were getting better. He would open his eyes, sometimes even to Tenshi's cheerful greeting. (Cheerful so in the way that it shocked Fuji so much that he practically leapt out of bed.)

The whole process was a list. He would wake, and then take a deep breath. Sometimes he would lie there for a few minutes if his alarm clock weren't already going off so that he was able to think. Other times, he'd have to turn his alarm off and get straight out of bed. Today, he'd woken earlier then expected, and he was still rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes when he slowly pulled himself up and stretched. His legs, slightly sore and stiff, would take a moment or two to respond. Aggressive physical therapy was helping them more, but something still wasn't quite right about the way he walked.

Eventually he was out of bed and preparing for the day, changing from his pajamas into his school uniform, pulling on his socks with mild difficulty and meeting his mother downstairs to converse with her for a while and have breakfast with her. Then he was off, donning his shoes and heading in the direction of his usual route. It really wouldn't matter that he was early. After all the trains ran in fifteen-minute intervals, so it never was a very long wait.

Tezuka was there, in their classroom. Their homeroom teacher was nowhere to be found, and Tezuka was focusing on his notes, though Fuji didn't know how anybody could study in the morning. "You're hear awfully early," Tezuka looked up, his glasses glinting from the sunlight that came from the windows nearby. Tezuka seemed to say the same for Fuji.

"I thought that I had morning practice today," he mentioned offhandedly, going back to his notes. "It turns out that it's tomorrow morning, not today." Tezuka's voice was strangely final, cool and composed. Tezuka faltered at nothing. Fuji had a wide smile on his face and sat at the desk in front of Tezuka's, turning so that he was able to face him.

"It's nice to see you, this morning," he mentioned. His smile was still intact, like a flawless paper mask. He placed one of his hands on the desk. The morning light still had to reach across the entirety of the room. Some of the corners were still dark. "You're doing well, right?"

"Yes. How're you?" Tezuka never made much of a move to continue conversations, so it was a little bit of surprise that he was doing so now.

"I'm doing well today. I'm walking a little better, I think. Maybe I'll be able to play tennis again soon." Tezuka gave an understanding nod, though he didn't say anything. That was something surprising about Tezuka. He never seemed to show it, but he really was quite good at grasping the idea of empathy. He could understand all of what Fuji meant, usually, and he was able to convey an answer successfully without even opening his mouth.

"Hey, Tezuka," He eyed the ground slightly. He needed really to remember to say what Tenshi suggested. Maybe it wouldn't hurt. Tezuka turned his eyes lightly towards Fuji as if to say that he was listening. It gave Fuji the strength to continue. "I like you." He had said it once before, but he felt like he needed to say it to Tezuka in person. He put his hand over Tezuka's lightly, in a gentle gesture. Tezuka was looking stunned; as if he was caught by something ferocious that wouldn't let go. Fuji had never seen Tezuka lose his composure before, and it felt like his heart had suddenly stopped beating.

"Why haven't you rejected me yet? Why do you prolong this pain? You should hate me for everything." His hand tightened around Tezuka's to an almost painful degree. Tezuka quickly regained his composure, but he didn't speak, perhaps because he didn't know how to say it.

Fuji decided that he knew what he wanted to do. He would end it; that was what he would do. "I understand," he said softly. "I'll leave you alone now. I'm sorry for the burden." He shouldn't have even been holding Tezuka's hand, so he hurriedly released it and stood.

Fuji was out the door before Tezuka was able to chase after him, with his chin held high and his eyes clear. Even if he suffered inside, he promised he would no longer shed a tear. He would be strong as he had been once before. Fuji even missed Tezuka's last attempt to bring him back. "Fuji, wait!" Fuji made a vow not to go near Tezuka again, at least for a while. The promise that he made himself was that he would never tell Tenshi. He vowed secretly to himself that he would be able to deal with this on his own.

It was late summer, but the rain was pouring down in drenching sheets; surprisingly, the season didn't have any of the dryness that it was usually distinguished for. The temperature remained cool, but the humidity was enough that people didn't tend to walk outside with their jackets on. Fuji once again was greeted by the constant, unending rainstorm, haunting him like a bad dream. As it drummed the windows, it marbled his vision and distorted all thought. Beyond the shelter of the house, everything was drenched, and it blurred like a bad picture on a television screen. Accompanied by it were the occasional lightning and thunder, illuminating the room and a pale face that had grown slightly more delicate than usual.

Fuji Shuusuke was not the boy who he used to be two or three months ago. He wasn't able to see himself, for he rarely ventured towards mirrors anymore for fear of what he might see when he was alone. When in the presence of others, he was fine. The smiling, strong boy would return for a small front. However, as soon as everyone left, he would crumble into nothing, his lower lip trembling. Tezuka was over, and he decided long since he would no longer rely on the boy. However, in a world where Eiji was becoming a rare sight, where he avoided Tezuka, and where Arai wouldn't have understood, it got a little lonely. Burned within his heart, though, was the presence of Tenshi, a constant in his life that he could never rid himself off. Why it hurt exactly, Fuji would never know. For every thing that went wrong, he blamed himself. So, it was only proper to say that it was his fault that he was so alone. Tenshi was like a blessing to him. Even when Fuji had sworn not to reveal his pain to the man again, he felt that he could trust him, and even without direct comfort, he was quelled, sedated.

After dragging a fingertip across the cool windowpane, he'd made his decision. Today was so much like that day, that day where he had first met Tenshi. From the beginning, Tenshi had been strange. He'd been oddly frightening the day he met him, and the expression Tenshi had given him would forever be deeply jaded into his heart.

Tenshi had expected to be hit upside the heads with a tennis racquet that day, but Fuji hadn't. His grip, slipping in the rain that was so much like today, hadn't been very strong. Tenshi had weakened him; he liked to make that his reason. No, it hadn't been Tenshi that weakened him. His emotions for Tezuka did. Those were emotions that could never be requited in Fuji's eyes. Excuses were a pathetic thing, but among the instability of his life, he felt that he had to find them to shield himself from the truth. Fuji wanted to ignore it; he wanted to be strong. Even now, he knew one day he could. However, Fuji didn't feel like he'd survive to see that day. He felt so worthless that on the worse days, he just wanted to curl up and die.

Maybe, just maybe Tezuka had liked him, but for fear of being cornered by Fuji, and being bound to something so unsteady for an eternity, he backed off. Why, was what the question was, and it was beyond Fuji to answer it. His heart beat fast, painfully so. Fuji would squint and close his eyes, letting his weight fall back until his back was pressing the wall. With his eyes closed, he'd sigh.

The only constant thing he had left now was Tenshi, and it would probably do him well to remember that no matter how much it hurt as a result, simply because something in his heart told him that he was just a little to lonely for this sole friendship. He needed something more, something to hold onto. At many times Fuji resented the fact that he'd never loved a woman. They were supposedly confusing, but with liking the same sex, there came a lot more complications. After all, not everybody was gay, and because of that there was always a chance that the person who had been the focus of such emotional importance wouldn't accept that fact. Tenshi was really the first person he'd met who would accept that and knew..

Yet with that, his young mind gave way to curiosity, the deadly sort. As the older man's lips pressed his, gently yet confidently, his confidence gave way. A young heart was an unsteady thing, and hard as it may have seemed to pull his feelings for Tezuka away from the boy for just a while in order to focus on Tenshi more. The man's kisses bewildered him; each touch had annoyed him initially. Slowly, though, the touches fell into a gentle sort of pattern, where Fuji looked up at Tenshi wordlessly whenever he'd done so. Where Fuji would have shoved the man away before, he slowly grew accustomed. Tenshi's position confused him, but it wasn't able to stop it, in effect. No, it only encouraged Fuji to wander deeper, seeking answers. He tried not to ask questions. Fuji would like to figure out things himself like he used to, without the help of Tenshi's advice.

Tenshi had never failed really to show Fuji that he cared. 'Shuusuke', a name Tenshi probably shouldn't have used was like a token of affection, spoken of great care and consideration. At first he'd been bothered by Tenshi's use of his given name, because it was so unbidden and improper. He shouldn't have used it, and by now he probably knew, yet he did. Upon asking Tenshi about it, he told Fuji it was because he liked the given name better than the family name, that it suited him far more than his family name did. In a way, Fuji had been disturbed by it, but he slowly lost interest in caring about it. After all, it was only a name. He could always ignore it if it bothered him. Somehow, thought, now, it didn't. The usage felt oddly familiar and nice. In a way, he would've preferred it than any other way.

Tenshi before had liked to kiss him, hug him, or do whatever to make Shuusuke more comfortable. It hadn't really worked at first, but slowly his efforts seemed to take effect. Fuji looked to Tenshi not only for advice now, but also for comfort. His kisses had become scarce, but they left a lingering feeling on his lips. Tenshi never kissed him long, and it was usually so quick that Fuji didn't have any time to react. Naturally they would confuse him, right? Was he growing accustomed to it, where Tenshi could steal longer and longer kisses? Tenshi rarely kissed him on the lips now, but the last time he did, it had lasted for a minute at least and he hadn't reacted at all.

With his mother not around to stop him, nor Yuuta, nor Yumiko, nor Tezuka or anyone else, he would go out. The grave that bothered him so much would be visited. Somehow even with this knowledge, it took a while to get his leg muscles moving so that he retrieved his shoes, and an umbrella.

No, not accustomed. Where he bitterly shoved the touch away before, he now began to resent it less and less, though a warning sign went up in the back of his head, saying "No, no! This can't be right at all!" Fuji was going through a world of hurt because of it, at the sudden anger that when he found somebody who accepted him, he was upset at the fact that Tenshi might turn out to be like Tezuka and reject him. Not to say that Fuji didn't remember it, the times that Tenshi had hugged him, stayed close to him, or kissed him. All those times, though, Tenshi had been the one doing it, and with a strange sort of confidence he had about him, it seemed almost unreal. It made the world feel a little bit emptier, and it hurt his heart. The recurring pain in his chest hadn't dulled. His heart throbbed of loneliness and ached for a friendlier touch once again. Amidst that view of the torrent of rain, he'd made his decision. After tracing foggy pane of glass with his fingers once more, he stood up.

The rain was harder than he expected, and his feet fell heavily upon the pavement. As he joined the steady stream of people, traveling to work, to the sushi bar, or anywhere else; he realized how quiet it was, as if they were all observing the rain. He broke off from them when he reached the foreigners' cemetery. Here it was quiet except for horrid, pounding rain. Nobody would be here on a day like this except him. Rivulets joined puddles, forming pools of water in lower-lying areas. The ground was muddy, slipping beneath his shoes. The forms of tombstones were barely visible against the pounding rain, and had Fuji not been looking at his feet he would have run into a few already. After searching for a while, he found the one that he was looking for. Like an old, worn watercolor portrait, sky and land blended into one in a diluted blur. His form, clear and defined, stuck out from all else. Bending down only slightly to read the tombstone, he nodded slightly to nobody in particular. His daisy that he left there last week was still there, though the petals were beginning to wilt. Fuji bent down to touch it. One of the petals broke off and was carried off by rainwater. The glowing white of the daisy petal still caught his eye as it was carried far away. Again, the name on the tombstone caught his name; something that was now so familiar to him that he needn't even read the marker anymore.

Alexei Zhivago. 

_31 October 1959 to 28 November 1981._

He had been twenty-two when he died; that was twenty-two years old and twenty-eight days to be exact. The numbers burned themselves eerily into his head, drawing him into a sort of spell. Through the whole pound of the rain, he couldn't imagine it. Here the man had been, a Russian, an absolute foreigner. Touching the tombstone, he closed his eyes. A dull pain traveled through his heart. A love of the world seemed to bind Zhivago's soul to the living world; at least, that was what it felt like. Fuji wondered what it was exactly that kept him here. Surely, this soul wasn't _at rest._ How had he died? Fuji wondered that, but felt this wasn't why he really came here. No, he wished to see Tenshi. Pressing his lips together, he closed his eyes. _If only Tenshi were here. _Fuji didn't now how he knew all this. The gravesite was just so… sad. It was inevitable, and he wasn't able to put to words what his feelings were about it.

Fuji was still able to remember what it felt like to be himself, to be so normal, happy, and perfectly self-confident. However, now with the umbrella slipping out from under his fingers, and he falling to the ground, Fuji saw that Tezuka hadn't been the end of it.

Fuji knew it. This wasn't the real him. The real him was somewhere that couldn't be described. The real him didn't need support. The real him didn't cry. The real him was able to deal with strife in a manner that a person should. However, reality was growing more and more distant. Fuji frequently lost touch with his sanity.

Really, he didn't know why he wasn't satisfied, but there was still a longing in his heart, a longing with called for Tenshi in Tezuka's absence. Now he was on his hands and knees, but not with enough strength to get up. He would probably end up catching a cold in the end. His clothes would be muddy, and he'd be soaked. That wasn't what he thought of. Sitting back so he wasn't leaning over on his hands, he scrutinized the grave. When unconsciously setting his hands in his lap, the left muddy handprints, smearing the mess. His mother wouldn't be very pleased, would she? Fuji didn't care. At least it wasn't his school uniform. No, that wouldn't have been good. However, he could only hope that when he finally reached home, the house would still be empty and he could slip into clean clothes unnoticed.

To somebody who had never experienced it, the pain was indescribable. Fuji didn't know what in the world he felt anymore for sheer lack of sense. His eyes would burn from holding back tears. They would ache until too much liquid built in his eyes and the fell to his hand, a warm droplet to contrast the cool rain. The muscles in his body tensed. He mud was slippery beneath him and he fell. He was laying in the mud, looking up at the dark, stormy sky. Fuji wasn't even aware that he could see his own breath. His eyes were shut not out of calm composure, but out of true pain, and a sob escaped him, for only just a minute.

What had happened the strength that he had vowed to show?

Maybe, just maybe, this was due to his being alone, to having come out here. It all seemed so stupid and insignificant to him now, now that he felt such pain as a result.

Not hearing approaching footsteps, he let his hands fall to the ground to better support him. With his breath growing short and painful, he fell lower, face close to the ground. A few times, his fists might have clenched and unclenched. Pressing into the muddy ground. Painfully, he shook his head. It was all so confusing, and it was all centering on Tenshi's affections. "What in the world?" somebody muttered slightly under his breath. If Fuji had been more aware, he would have noticed the feeling of having eyes fixed on him intently. The whisper had been soft fading into the rain. Tenshi's chin was lifted slightly, even though his gaze lowered to meet Fuji's level. Fuji, crumpled on the ground and looking to be in so much pain… Why had he come out here?

Somebody bent down and picked up his umbrella, clicking his tongue lightly, but Fuji, so caught up in his thoughts that he wasn't able to notice. However, a voice did seem to do the trick. "Why the face, Shuusuke?" It had been so much like that day, that frigid night. Fuji never felt more alone. Eyes wide, shot with pain, and weakening by the second, turned over to the man. Now he was aware of it. The mud squelched under his palms, his knees were growing sore against the hard ground, he was hunched painfully, he was soaking wet, and to top it off, he was freezing. Why, he could even see his breath! Surely, this wasn't what summer was supposed to be like! Unconsciously, Fuji shivered. "I've been looking for you… You had me worried for a moment." _Why do you do that, scaring me so much? I would never want to find you beyond help, yet going off alone to places like this in a storm isn't helping. You could have asked me to come with. Why?_

"Te-Tenshi?" His voice came out a little higher pitched than normal. His breath showed in a misty cloud again, and he shivered lightly. Maybe he should have brought some sort of jacket, he thought. A hand touched his cheek. Fuji shook his head. His throat, raw and sore, wouldn't push out any more syllables than that. Tenshi seemed to understand it. He asked no more of Fuji, only sliding the touch to Fuji's shoulder lightly.

"Get up," the voice ordered gently, full of a soft sort of worry. Fuji was lifted to his feet, and guided back in the direction of his house. _You've been way too distracted as of late. Why is that? What is bothering you so much that you really can't focus properly?_ "Are you all right? Why are you out here?" His hand pressed against Fuji's back once the boy stood up, and he was handed the umbrella. Quietly, he allowed Tenshi to lead him out of the graveyard and in the direction of home. Stuttering, he tried to explain, but lost his voice when they joined the crowd and fell into a shameful silence. Tenshi paused for a moment, guiding Fuji into the house and having him retrieve some warm towels for himself and a wet washcloth for the mud. It was lucky that his mother wasn't home, or she would've thrown a fit. Up in his bedroom, he sat dripping wet with the towels sitting in his lap unused. Tenshi had his mind about him and had Fuji sit on a bathroom towel so he wouldn't get the floor muddy with his clothes.

"You're a mess," he commented, his voice slightly fond, gentle and warm. Fuji felt his chest flutter and his mind warm up slightly. The pain faded only to a minimal degree. However, he hadn't done anything to start cleaning up, and he was beginning to look distinctly ruffled, just sitting there like that. A tense silence seemed to pass, before Tenshi spoke again. His voice hadn't asked the question, but under all the layers, the question asking what had made him think that way was still there. Fuji sensed it, but he wanted to ignore it, to shun it for as long as he was able to.

"Why won't you take care of yourself?" Tenshi worried too much, thought Fuji. Then again, he thought, it was good to have somebody worry about him. It felt nice. He took a towel and the rag from Fuji and began to dry his hair with it, working the fabric gently over sopping wet bangs. Fuji sat there idly, staring off into space with his eyes still open. Tenshi was growing slightly more worried now. He frowned. This was the most serious that Fuji had ever seen Tenshi. He really was worried.

"You're shivering." Fuji hadn't realized it, but Tenshi must have felt the incessant tremble while drying him. His fingers brushed Fuji's cheek unintentionally, and Fuji straightened his back. He worked his way down Fuji's arms with the towel, his grip on the boy kind, yet firm. The cool washcloth cleaned a streak of dark mud from his face. All the time, Fuji was slightly stiff and unresponsive under his touch. It seemed to be that he was holding his breath for some unknown reason. How would Tenshi know? At times, he may have been able to tell what Fuji was thinking, but now he wasn't able to have a single inkling. Tenshi really couldn't read minds; he was just talented at picking up thoughts from a person's expression.

"I' m fine." Fuji's voice was hoarse; his throat sorer than it had been in a long time. He was getting sick, and he knew it. The thing was that he didn't want Tenshi to know it. The man worried enough as it was, and the last thing that Fuji needed was any more pity from anybody. "Really," the last thing he added was a hoarse croak, as soft as the wind. He decided to stop talking for the moment, and Tenshi seemed satisfied, brining the towel gently across his neck as if to quell pain. _He had improved so much. I actually thought that he was going to be fine. They say this strife is normal in some teenagers! I just want to see him happy. Why won't that simple idea just sink in? The world would be such a happier place that way. _

Tenshi wondered at the sudden illness, and how quickly Fuji had fallen to it. He'd been showing some symptoms of a cold for about a week now, but Fuji seemed to refuse to give himself a rest. However, it had been fine until he'd gone out in the rain. The storm seemed to have aggravated the symptoms severely.

"Shuusuke, you don't realize it, do you?" His voice was somber. Fuji wondered what it meant, and what he was supposed to realize that he didn't. With wide eyes, he wondered if he had done something wrong. Tenshi saw the confusion, and he ruffled Fuji's damp hair in a reassuring gesture. Behind Tenshi's eyes, he saw a depressed ghost of a boy, suffering from an emotional condition that had a lot less to do with Tezuka Kunimitsu than it appeared. Fuji had always hated the idea of a psychologist, but perhaps it would be good for him if he went to one.

Tenshi's worry, at some times, wasn't unwarranted. Fuji's fate was very unclear. He couldn't lose Fuji, and sometimes one problem led to another, as he had learned so painfully in the past. Still, Fuji seemed not to understand it in the least. "Never mind. We'll get you warmed up and in some dry clothes." He'd sounded so much like a parent as of late that Fuji couldn't understand it. Why did Tenshi bother with him? Why did he care so much? Fuji was just a teenager, something that shouldn't have been of any significance to Tenshi. How was Tenshi able to deal with him? Fuji, at that time, gave a more visible shiver, his teeth chattering.

"I think I have all the excess water off you. You should go change, now." Idly, Fuji sat there, before slowly getting to his feet. Even when in warm pajamas a few minutes later, he was still cold. Tenshi brought him a blanket from the bed and draped it around his shoulders, but he still seemed to shiver. Fuji didn't feel cold anymore, even though he was shivering. Now, it was more that he felt hot and sticky. Why did Tenshi insist on keeping that blanket over him? It was so bothersome. Tenshi sat upright, so Fuji lay next to him, keeping quiet for a while until they slowly began a conversation.

"So, why were you out there. You'll get sick… again." Fuji paused for a moment to think.

"I had to go and see that grave again. There's something about it that draws me to it."

"Ah, I see." He paused to rub Fuji's forehead. He stopped when Fuji shifted uncomfortably under the touch. "Were you the one who's been leaving those daisies around lately?" Tenshi tried his best to keep by Fuji's side every second, but it was hard. Other obligations beckoned to him now. The old man was requiring more and more frequent meetings, as if he needed to watch Tenshi closely.

"Yeah, I have. It makes everything seem more peaceful." Upon their meeting, Fuji had never been aware of the dead, much less foreigners who were dead. However, now he was extremely sensitive to it, and seemed to be able to feel the aura of graves. Tenshi wouldn't know, though. This was the first time that he ever talked about it. It made Tenshi smile, though, even though Fuji didn't know why. Strange as Tenshi was, and long as he had known him and been close to him, he knew precious little of the man. So little that he didn't even know where the man lived.

"You have a fever," he mentioned to Fuji. Fuji looked surprised.

"How do you know that?"

"Your face is flushed and you're still shivering." He placed a hand on Fuji's forehead. "Yes. It's only slight, but you have a fever, all right."

"Oh," His response was callous in a way, not caring what happened to him. Tenshi's eyes narrowed, and he tried to get a point across.

"Can you try and not push yourself next time? At least you could keep from getting yourself soaked again. It isn't good… if you keep getting sick you might have to go to the hospital again." Fuji didn't want to go to the hospital again. Tenshi knew how much he disliked it. It wasn't an idle threat, either. Fuji kept getting sick, and he wasn't eating properly. All it took was for his mother to discover this, and he would be over.

"Okay, then." Fuji took a chance to take a deep breath, shifting slightly.

"Hey, Tenshi?" he asked, pausing to sit up, using his elbow to push himself up.

"What is it?"

"I wanted to know where you used to live. Where were you born?" Tenshi's eyes closed for a minute, as if he was debating about whether or not he should tell Fuji where he lived. Fuji looked genuinely curious, but it didn't seem quite right.

"It doesn't matter." Fuji, by know, understood that prying wouldn't help, and that there were some things that he would never know about Tenshi. That didn't cancel out the fact that he was still a little disappointed, to say the least. Maybe, he thought, that was something that was painful for Tenshi. Maybe he was homesick or something. Tenshi caught the look of disappointment on Fuji, and his face softened a little. Fuji really, at times, could make him do anything whether he liked it or not. "I was born in Russia. I grew up in the Netherlands, though." The sudden disclosure of information surprised Fuji greatly, but he smiled nonetheless, grateful that Tenshi told him. It made him feel nice.

"Mm," he said in response. "Interesting." His smile grew a little more confident, and warm. Tenshi found it slightly amusing that Fuji was so grateful for just that tiny piece of information. Then again, he remembered that he never really talked about himself. Even when Fuji was the one listening, he was only telling stories and legends, not revealing facts about his own life. Fuji must not have liked being in the dark about it. The smile was contagious, something real, too. With a warm feeling in his heart, Tenshi was able to smile at well when he saw that the boy was happy, at least for a little while. "Do you miss it?" He asked offhandedly, though he shouldn't have because it wasn't his business. Fuji told himself that it wasn't his right to pry. It seemed like a sensitive subject as it was, and he didn't want to frighten the man away from him by prying when he shouldn't have.

"Yeah, I guess I do sometimes. You learn to live away from what used to be home, though. I like being here, too." He gave Fuji a gentle punch on the shoulder. "Besides, if I was always in the Netherlands, I wouldn't have met you. I'm lucky." He chuckled a little, but Fuji wasn't sure what to think of what he said, if it was good, or if he should've been slightly uneasy. No, he supposed not. It was nice that he could be liked by someone that much.

"Yeah," commented Fuji, pensively. A sudden question came to his mind. "Why do you do this for me? I must be a pathetic sight, so weak like this. This isn't the person you want to see, is it? Why do you still put up with me?" His question hurt in his heart, but he had to know.

"I don't. The person I see now isn't the Fuji Shuusuke I want to see, but I put up with him because I care." Fuji's eyes widen. "If I help him when his is hurt, then the real Shuusuke that I know is down there can recover, and you will be normal again." Fuji smiled. Sometimes, he could be really grateful for the man. It seemed to change on a daily basis. It was either that he was resentful of what Tenshi did, or grateful for the friendship that they shared. The gentle phrase brought a smile to his lips brought him to pull away slightly and be able to stand on his own. He was shaky, but he was growing stronger.

"I will be strong," he repeated under his breath to himself. He'd never needed to tell himself that before now, when he was crumbling to pieces, when he so desperately needed answers and a reprieve. He straightened up and stood without trembling, even though his face was slightly stained from fever.

"You are, Shuusuke," Tenshi didn't say another word.

"Hey, I'm going to make some tea. Do you want to come with?" His question came a few minutes later, after a comfortable silence had passed.. Fuji knew better than to ask Tenshi if he wanted any by now. The man always refused. However, Fuji was in the mood for tea, and Tenshi never seemed to mind simply tagging along with him. Rather than using his politeness towards offering tea, he would just ask Tenshi to join him, and for that, the man always seemed grateful. The smiling man gave a nod, and Fuji tugged on ahead, with Tenshi following patiently at his heels.

"Yeah, sure."

Sometimes things were only a routine, but this was what Fuji grew used to, and it was what was able to let him smile and be happy, for the sake of his sanity. Maybe it was all formula, just some sort of formula that Fuji wasn't able to predict.


	15. Chapter 15

So… There isn't much to say. I managed to edit this quicker than I would've expected to, so here it is, up a day after I posted the previous chapter. To be truthful, this was the second part, but I felt as if it could be broken up into two pieces, and since it was getting so long I decided to do exactly that. Only problem was that this chapter wasn't supposed to be fifteen. I was going to wait until seventeen, ah well.

Disclaimer: Everything in here is disclaimed, including part of the chapter's plot as well. **Merissala **suggested the idea a while ago, and since it fit pretty well into the chapter, I added it. So everyone remember that part of this chapter is thanks to her, okay? I appreciate everything that Merissala has done for me with her suggestions. Thank you! All rights are reserved for cannon characters, to the animators and the manga-ka, Konomi Takeshi.

Thank you, to everyone who has reviewed in the past. I always do love constructive criticism and general feedback, and if you have any questions about something, I will do my best to answer them, as long as it isn't something that would be a spoiler.

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**To Sedate- Chapter 15**

Fuji set the kettle to boil when he got downstairs, though he found nothing except teabags. He really didn't like that fact, because tea didn't taste the best that way, even though he wouldn't really mind in the end. He just needed something hot to drink, anyways. Tea tasted better the way his mother made it, but his mother wasn't here. No, she was out for the day and would be going shopping at home. Fuji could even make tea pretty well, but there was nothing to make it with. When the water boiled he poured it into a cup and let one of teabags settle in it for a while.

It was all regular, formula. Fuji couldn't exactly make the annoying limp go away. It hindered his ability to walk. It bothered him like nothing else. Having such a hindrance on him was not something that Fuji was exactly used to. His legs would sometimes take a minute to respond. The physical therapy had helped greatly, but he was still having innumerable difficulties.

Tenshi was at the table, sitting quietly. Idly, Fuji stirred the beverage with a spoon to even the concentration so that it wouldn't seem watery. Hesitantly, he took a sip of the steaming liquid. It burned his lips slightly, but it felt nice down his throat. It didn't quell the coldness in his throat, though. His eyes follow briefly as Fuji straightens up and makes the slow journey back to the table. He notes how Fuji's walking has gotten better, but there's a still noticeable limp. Fuji seems to have a dull pain that prods him to move slowly, so as not to jar his legs in the wrong way and cause more pain than necessary. Injury had made Fuji a much more careful person. There is no callousness in the way he walks.

"You really should take something for that fever, you know," Tenshi said, frowning. Was it really that bad? Fuji didn't like to take medicine now, really. He told himself that it was childish and extremely silly not to quell symptoms of illness just because of his recent dislike of medication, but he decided it would be better to wait and let his body fight it off. After all, there were more and more people saying that medicine shouldn't have been taken for just the passing pain, and that it should only be used in cases of serious infection.

"I'll be fine." Fuji protested. "Besides, there isn't any medicine in the house, and mother would have only picked some up on her way home if I asked her to." Tenshi shook his head in disapproval. Fuji may not have been very callous about the way he walked but when it came to his health in general, Fuji was absolutely ignorant.

"If it gets worse, ask her for some, alright?" Perhaps this was just said to quell Tenshi's worries, to try and think that if he asked Fuji to promise he would, that Fuji would remember and listen to what Tenshi asked of him. It wasn't a very hard thing to do, and it was all that Tenshi asked of him.

"Okay." Perhaps this might have been an empty promise. No, Fuji was sincere, all right. Maybe it just had something briefly to do with the fact that he thought that if he did that single thing for Tenshi, he would worry a little less. Fuji was on the brink of telling Tenshi that some of that worry should be redirected. Fuji that that Tenshi needed to worry a little bit more about himself sometimes, because whenever he was around Fuji, he seemed to forget anything else.

The silence between them had been very odd as of late, and although Fuji worried slightly about it, it gave him time between dialog to actually think about what he was feeling, and the confusion, which had yet to settle, was beginning to bother him a lot. However much he analyzed his feelings, though, he never seemed to be able to think clearly. Tea, even with its caffeine, had always been a drink that enabled Fuji to relax slightly. To say the least, though, a few months ago, he could easily say that he never got this tense. After all, there was little Fuji Shuusuke had to be very tense about. He felt no guilt, and he never felt regret like this. Namely, it was in the case of Tezuka and their encounter what seemed like forever ago.

The burning tea stayed at his tongue for a moment more, scorching the inside of his mouth but not ridding the cold in the back of his throat or quelling his shivers. This was supposed to help, at least a little, he thought to himself. He held the cup with both hands for fear of dropping it, because his hands were shaking lightly. He took another sip and set the cup aside on the table.

"Hey, Tenshi?" His question was offhanded, and at first, Fuji hadn't intended to ask it. In fact, he wasn't even sure what he was intending to ask about. _I don't know what I am going to say, what I intend to do, what I intend to talk about… Then why did I ask?_

"Yeah?"

Tenshi's remark was usual, but amidst the storm of thoughts that Fuji experienced, he wasn't able to tell what exactly he sad at first. To him, the reply sounded muffled, distant. Fuji seemed to pause, perhaps to take a moment to rethink his reply to that, perhaps to have second-guesses about his own thoughts. He pushed the cup of tea farther away from him as if he was moving a chess piece, but before he can take his hand off of it, he draws it back almost as if in apology. He takes another sip.

Amidst all that wondering, Fuji could clearly imagine a gentle breezy voice telling him to go ahead, to never second-guess himself, to allow instinct and common sense to take over. In essence it was logic, and smart as Fuji had been about it before, he seemed to be losing a lot of rapidly as of late. Now wasn't time for any second-guesses, though, was it?

"Is it possible that…" He paused for a minute. No, that wasn't what he had wanted to ask at all. At least, that was what he thought.. "I have a favor to ask." His tone was soft, questioning.

_If it isn't too much trouble, really, _was what Fuji wanted to mean, but couldn't very easily say. Tilting his head to the side slightly, Tenshi nodded, bidding Fuji to continue with what he had wanted to say. The feverish tint on Fuji's face was still there a little, though it seemed to be fading a little. Again, he sipped the hot tea. Tenshi wondered if he expected it to help as well as medicine would've. Naturally, he knew it probably wouldn't. Fuji was probably just using to combat the cold feeling he felt all over.

Another sip of tea, to quell his nerves, perhaps; one turned into two, and he kept his eyes firmly affixed on the steaming liquid. There had only been so much tea in the cup, and he was almost finished with it. Still, it hadn't warmed him up. Another sip, to help him ignore the silence of the room was taken. Sure enough, the idea of using a teabag hadn't been that bad at all. In fact, the tea might have been the thing that helped him regain his smile, just a little bit.

"What is it?" A calm reply, sure and confident; surely, Fuji would've expected that. Somehow, though, he hadn't. In a way, it was almost as if the prodigy expected Tenshi to have a key to his thoughts, to know what he was thinking all at once and to not have to hear him speak. It was absurd. Illogical.

Logic wasn't exactly Tenshi's middle name though, was it? Tenshi was the absolute foil of all things sensible.

_I've been wondering for a while. _

_Could you, could you possibly tell me?_

Maybe it was routine now that Fuji would drift off in the middle of conversations, making the person listening with that he would get to the point a little it faster. However, before he spoke to again try and encourage Fuji to talk, the boy spoke of his own will, and in all his years of experience of guessing what a person was going to say, he never would've been able to guess or prepare himself for Fuji's question. "Could you kiss me?" It all came at once, as if Fuji had forced himself to say it. Hurriedly, he took a sip of tea, maybe to silence his upset breathing. The question had fallen deaf upon Tenshi's ears for a fraction of a second or two. He took a moment to survey Fuji. He never blushed, but the feverish tint on his face looked like that.

Sometimes, it was hard for even Tenshi to remember that Fuji had once been a lot stronger than this. It could be used of an advantage, almost. People would misjudge him when they weren't familiar with his reputation, and it would easily bring about their own downfall.

Maybe, it was, that Fuji had been too close to him as of late, and he was beginning to pick up Tenshi's ways of illogical thinking. Of course, the thought never really came to Tenshi because his illogical way of thinking was normal to him, and he never really paid much attention to the fact Fuji had said that he was strange quite a few times. Tenshi never had been able to be quite sure about Fuji's seriousness about that idea.

Here, though, that was where his familiarities with Fuji ended, and he didn't know if Fuji had asked him this with a clear mind, or if the statement was actually spoken out of a sort of delirium from the fever. The though hurt him slightly. Fuji, a teenager with a lot more self-control than most people, was not prone to asking such questions. In Tenshi's mind, that just wasn't the sort of thing that the boy would ever even remotely allow himself to do. It was outrageous, unspoken, and absolutely uncalled for.

Illogical, somebody else would've called it, but that word had already been used too many times that day, and Tenshi was beginning to cringe at the very use of it.

He'd never been in the position to reject the request, even though he wasn't sure how exactly he was able to put it to words. Whether or not he was morally able to do it, or not, wasn't something that could easily be decided with a nod of the head. That was something that would take a little more debate than just to decide what _Tenshi_ would normally do. One would say that Fuji had requested it, but then again, it needed to be remembered that Fuji had been very distraught as of late and might not even be able to coherently think.

He'd been sitting next to Fuji at the table, surveying him calm and silently. He stood and looked at Fuji for a minute. The boy seemed to expect that Tenshi thought that he was crazy or something. Maybe he was, even though Tenshi could say that he didn't feel crazy. Sometimes the line between sanity and insanity was indefinite.

Tenshi was able to remember how much of a comparable difference there was between Fuji now and Fuji before. Looking slightly devastated, as if he'd been rejected already with the painful silence, he turned his head farther away. Fuji hadn't meant to scare Tenshi away, honestly All the time, whenever he tried to convey something, he pushed somebody farther away. He didn't want Tenshi to end up like Tezuka had, so painfully far away that Fuji shouldn't have spoken in the first place. Tenshi's gentle gaze pressed at him, though, beckoning him to open his eyes.

They said that eyes were windows into a person's soul, and perhaps that was why Fuji kept them closed except when in a match. Eyes could easily betray one's emotions, and show weakness. Until now, though, those eyes had been filled with strength. With his eyes open, Fuji looked so weak. His eyes showed a strange emotion when Tenshi's fingers contacted his chin lightly. Partially, Tenshi had known Fuji would jump slightly under the touch. The skin he touched was burning hot from the fever, and Tenshi's skin probably felt very cold against his.

Maybe he hadn't regretted his decision, but he suddenly seemed to rethink it, as if he was causing Tenshi far too much trouble. "I'm really sorry," Why should Fuji be regretting it? There was nothing in particular that he had done wrong. Still, something about the way Tenshi had touched him told him that the man was oddly upset about something, and he wasn't entirely happy about the idea that it was he who was at fault. Their contact was broken when Fuji bowed his head out of respect and apology. Fuji tried to make an excuse by hurriedly going to wash the empty cup that previously held his tea. After that, he went on to begin scrubbing the teakettle without much reason or logic behind it.

Tenshi wasn't exactly sure about what Fuji wanted anymore. After all, he had been so vague to begin with and didn't exactly seem all that confident at the moment. Still, he was bidden to approach Fuji again, placing a hand gently on his shoulder so that he spun around. His eyes were closed again, but Tenshi could see a plain look of worry on his face, that slowly melted away as they stood there.

Tenshi still remained confused; it broke the boundaries of both Fuji's physical and emotional need. Fuji wasn't a clingy person, in essence. He didn't need physical gestures of affection for reassurance, much less, a kiss. It made him for one minute think his resolve to do as Fuji had asked. The worry made him think a little too much, and it wasn't just a single worry. He knew it all too well…

Everything could shatter; it could break into nothing. Fuji might have ended up distrusting him. No, he wouldn't be able to trust him at all after this. If he were to kiss him, everything would be confirmed, that Tenshi really wasn't suited for the job that he wasn't able to handle the responsibility of watching over Fuji. It all brought a foreign frown to his face. Fuji looked curious, still partially expectant.

Tenshi, since the day he'd met Fuji, had always found him extremely likable. What wasn't to like, after all? Fuji was mature and a bit of a pretty boy. Girls loved him. Guys envied him. Something just didn't seem right, with Fuji asking him that. Even when he had his fingers under Fuji's chin, making it so that Fuji gaze was turned up towards his, he wasn't very sure at all. What exactly made him lean in and kiss Fuji, with all the doubts he still had, he wouldn't have known. His view on the world blurred considerably when he tried to think after that. Fuji remained pretty much unresponsive under his touch, though this time there was no effort to shove him away. Fuji might have even tripped when it felt he took a step forward, closer to Tenshi, putting an arm around his shoulder.

To Fuji, it felt almost too much like the day that he had met Tenshi. Unlike that day, however, he wasn't trying to move away while his feet were firmly rooted to the ground. He wasn't sobbing out of desperation for the feelings he felt that could never be requited. This time, Tenshi only drew away out of worry, because Fuji had been trembling lightly under his touch. It sent up a red flag for Tenshi because Fuji was so distraught by his own thoughts that a single tear fell from his eye, and he suddenly regretted everything that he'd done. Sure, Fuji had shoved him away before, but he'd never actually cried as a result of what he did.

The tear alerted him, sending a shock to his system that was so odd he wasn't able to recognize it. That day in the rain, he wouldn't have even been able to tell if Fuji was crying or not. After all, there had been so much rainwater on his face, it was hard to tell if anything on his face could be distinguished as a tear or not. However, here it was now, unmistakably a tear from Fuji. Tenshi felt unexplainably guilty as a result.

"I'm sorry." What was there to apologize for, Fuji wondered. Tenshi believed that his kiss must have upset him. Otherwise, he wouldn't have cried like that. Why Fuji had asked him to kiss him was a mystery to Tenshi. What was Fuji so curious about that he really needed a kiss to confirm? His lips grew close to Fuji's forehead and he kissed the skin gently. Fuji made no jerky movements to push him away, but he was still deathly silent. His breath hit Fuji's skin gently for a while before he finally seemed to realize what he was doing. He pulled away, tucking a strand of hair behind Fuji's ear. He shook his head in shame. The fondness in his gestures was still there, but it was oddly muffled, as if he really was actually trying not to frighten Fuji.

"I'm really sorry… Shuusuke…" Sometimes it was hard to distinguish what would be better for Fuji, and this time it seemed to have turned out that what he wanted had been what wasn't right for him. It tore him apart on the inside.

Fuji was really thinking, though, even when he looked so dumbfounded pertaining to what had happened just now. His mind had fallen into a haze, and his lips tingled. His face felt strangely hot, although that was probably only because of the fever. Really, Tenshi's hand felt so cold against his skin, making him shiver. He was dizzy, and probably looked like he was about to faint. Only Tenshi's grip was thing to steady him.

Tenshi wondered what he could do to erase that distraught look from his face, to end the unexplainable guild that he felt. He brushed the tear that had fallen down Fuji's cheek away with the back of his hand and then made movements to give Fuji some space. Fuji's fingers caught his sleeve, though, and for once; Fuji was able to look Tenshi straight in the eye, with an odd sort of seriousness about him. Fuji shook his head and tried to open his mouth to speak more than a a few times. All the attempts seemed to yield unsuccessful.

Please don't apologize. Don't apologize for something that could never be your fault. Don't- Fuji seemed to find the strength to speak Finally. "Don't say you're sorry," His voice was hoarse to begin with, but it rose in strength, and this time Fuji took initiative to bring up the strength to come closer to Tenshi. "Don't say you're sorry for something that can't be your fault." Tenshi blinked, but smiled. There was absolutely no hint of regret in Fuji's voice this time, and he lifted his gaze easily to look at Tenshi's eyes.

This time, Fuji didn't look away from Tenshi, and their lips met a few seconds later in a more eager gesture. Fuji's heart beat out of control; he felt dizzy at the rush of adrenaline to his brain. Tenshi clasped his hand lightly, and he felt cool fingers slide across his cheek. The touch between their fingers was light at best, but it sent electricity all up Fuji's arm. Tenshi seemed to put forth a large effort not to touch him any further, but Fuji didn't feel like anything was unnatural. Rather, he was peaceful.

The way Tenshi allowed him to think fluidly by not rushing things was something that felt nice. This time, when they drew away there was no spoken apologies, only silence. Tenshi was giving him a strange look; as if he intended to ask whether or not what he was doing was a trick. Tenshi wanted to say that if it was, it was cruel, and he was hurt badly. All either could really think of was the kiss, and there was no hesitation in the next, or the next. By now, both people had lost any coherent train of thought that they once had. That was life, though. All logic seemed to evaporate, and they no longer really struggled for the sake of logical thought.

Fuji's world spun until he was dizzy and he thought that he would be sick from it. Everything faded into nothing. "Tenshi-" the space between them couldn't have even been a millimeter, but the sudden whisper made Tenshi leap a good ways away from Fuji. The boy was still slightly stunned, but after shaking it off, he filled a cup of water from the tap and set it on the table, bidding Fuji to sit.. Tenshi stood up and went to sit opposite of Fuji, not next to him, his eyes burning with a strange intensity. Fuji was speechless, and Tenshi slid the cup of water over to him. "Here. Drink it." Fuji took it and drank, but he didn't take his eyes off of Tenshi.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that, even though you asked." How could Tenshi say that at a time like this? For Fuji… For Fuji, it just didn't seem possible. Tenshi seemed tongue-tied, on a war between morals, mind, and heart. Sometimes to Fuji, Tenshi seemed like a little bit of a hypocrite. _Don't apologize!_ Fuji wasn't able to voice that single thought verbally.

"What are you talking about?" _If anybody should be sorry, it should be me, not you. What is to regret, anyways? We both liked it. You know I did._

Tenshi's eyes were slightly downcast. He'd felt so good when he'd kissed Fuji like that, when Fuji hadn't made an attempt to push him away. However, now that burning sensation in his chest was bothersome. Standing after a while, he went over to where Fuji sat, reaching down to put an arm around the boy's shoulder. "Tenshi?" he queried, the man didn't answer.

"I-" He shook his head and fell silent. Tenshi had him stand up for a moment, and he picked up the cup, clutching it close to him. Not seeming very interested in the water, he took a few sips of it before he stood up, breaking the contact they had and standing for a while at the edge of the room, his back turned to Tenshi.. Tenshi released him and this time kept a very safe distance from him. Fuji felt slightly empty inside. The sudden separation wasn't something that he particularly liked.

"Why did you ask for me to kiss you?" The question was intent, filled with a strange sort of emotion that Fuji wasn't able to detect. The tone lacked the sort of bitterness that might have been expected, but I was far from the warm voice that Fuji had long since grown accustomed to. Tenshi wanted Fuji to forget everything that happened. He shouldn't have been down here debating things and getting the both of them confused; Fuji had a fever, and he needed rest. Even when ill, Fuji just seemed to refuse to miss school unless Tenshi or Fuji's mother forced him to, most likely by having to tie him to the bed. Rest was a key thing Fuji needed, but his head was in such a scramble that Tenshi wasn't able to say it aloud. He wasn't thinking straight at all. Tenshi's eyes fell closed.

"Why?" His voice was soft, sad in a sort of way. "You're supposed to like Tezuka. Please, please forget about me." Tenshi _never _begged. Even Fuji knew this, and he looked up almost in disbelief at Tenshi. The man's eyes showed everything; he didn't even need to speak for Fuji to know what he was thinking. _Is that your way of showing pity? If it is, it really hurts._ Fuji turned on the tap and rinsed the cup once before drying it with a dishtowel and setting it to dry. All the time, he'd kept his back firmly turned from the man, but when he did finally turn around, it was a surprising, yet very pitiful sight. Tenshi was able to see it clearly now, the heartbreaking sight of tears in Fuji's eyes.

Fuji could only wonder what he had done wrong, why Tenshi was so upset now that he hadn't wanted the kiss. "Why do I have to like Tezuka?" His voice held a strange anger that Tenshi hadn't expected to receive, having triggered a nerve that he hadn't even known to exist. Fuji took a few steps in Tenshi's direction, holding his chin high, trying to remain confident, but failing pretty badly at the task. He slid his head close to Tenshi's chest, but the man pushed him farther away. How was it that their roles were so quick to reverse, that as soon as Fuji seemed to respond to Tenshi's emotions, Tenshi no longer wanted to see the sort of affection.

"I was just curious," he said. Fuji closed his eyes. It was hard to tell the truth about this. "You confused me when you kissed me and touched me… I wanted to know what it really felt like when I was expecting it." So, it had been a simple curiosity, not pity. At least Tenshi no longer felt a burning pain in his chest at the thought that Fuji was only taking pity on him, no more, no less. Was it so shameful to wonder? Fuji hadn't thought so, but his curiosity seemed to have driven Tenshi firmly away. Now he regretted it.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Shuusuke," Though the saying might have been something bad, it was gentle, a joke. Still, it held a sort of plea that told Fuji to go back to his obsession with Tezuka. Fuji didn't seem to care.

"Well, I'm not a cat," He said plainly, truthfully.

"I guess you aren't, are you?"

Tenshi was confused. He wanted to make up some excuse as to why it had happened, but there was none, and surely, he would be in trouble if he were discovered. The old man wouldn't like it, especially if Fuji had asked Tenshi to kiss him. He would say that Tenshi had seduced the boy, and driven him away from Tezuka. How could he do that when his job was to ensure Fuji's natural happiness? "I think I might like you, Tenshi," His body trembled slightly when he heard it, but it wasn't enough that Fuji would've noticed. Not even the most sensitive eye would have been able to pick up his slight tremble. He frowned at it.

How had it come to this? The old man really had been right. Now Tenshi regretted everything, especially when it came to disobedience pertaining to direct orders. What had he been thinking?

Tenshi wanted to tell Fuji that there was no way for him to explain why exactly this happened, but Fuji wouldn't have even understood it, especially with how he was acting now. "I can't." His voice was strangely even, not betraying the sort of pain that brought forth strange desperation. Why was he saying this? He surely didn't want to; his only motive though was to push Fuji far enough away from him, so nothing would crumble to pieces. "I can't do anything for you. I can't provide what Tezuka could give." The look in Fuji's eyes at that very moment could've killed somebody, and his heart ached painfully at the sight. The look was of such longing; something that begged something of Tenshi, something that Tenshi barely had the strength to deny.

"That's stupid!" The phrase escaped his mouth before Fuji even had a chance to think. "Why do you say things like that? You've already done enough for me, more than Tezuka could ever do." Tezuka, the name was spoken with such pain, even when Fuji tried to put up a strong front with his smile; he tried to show Tenshi that he was able to be happy without being near Tezuka. Yet, as he did that, his smile grew abnormally bitter. He may have been curious about Tenshi, but he wasn't sure if his feelings for Tezuka would ever be completely gone. He wouldn't know until the horrid pain plaguing his chest stopped.

"You're getting mixed up. I'm not Tezuka. Go to him. You two will make a great couple." It hurt him so much to say that. Even in all his experience, he didn't expect that he could hurt so badly when the pain wasn't even physical, and to imagine that it was caused by something nobody else had done but he himself! Fuji gulped and took a deep breath of air, as if he was struggling with his words and trying to say something. Tenshi wished again that he would just say it. "Go on," Tenshi was used to standing strong, but having to see Fuji like this and deny him so long was beginning to tear him apart. He could only watch this weakness so long before he began to slowly break down as well. It was suffocating, and hard to breathe; it was even hard to think. Fuji Shuusuke always seemed to make things more complicated than they actually were, though it might have been only because of Tenshi.

"If you know so much about me, why didn't you just figure this out?" Fuji's voice was accusing, and rising to an angry level. It made Tenshi jerk lightly from the position where he stood. Even when he had spoken to Tezuka on the phone so long ago, he hadn't sounded so infuriated. His anger was true, yet he didn't know for what it was, though. It confused him greatly. All he could do, though, was wait for him to speak again, to provide some sort of plausible explanation. Tenshi paused for a minute, a little blown away by Fuji's sudden anger.

"Tezuka already knows plenty well about my feelings, even after the phone call. He mind as well have rejected me. I told him in school, and I haven't spoken to him since." Tenshi's eyes widened. Another tear escaped, but Fuji didn't cry. Tenshi caught him in a lightly hold and brought him closer, despite the cool, unforgiving quality he had spoken in. It had been unforgiving and intentional. For a moment, Fuji seemed to strengthen, but that seemed all to fade, because he might have used up the very last of his energy.

_I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to show weakness. I'm going to be strong. I'm going to show Tenshi that I don't need Tezuka, that I am perfectly happy with him and him alone._

"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice had changed in all meaning and motive, as he watched Fuji break down before him. The whole process was completely maddening. As Fuji crumbled apart inside, he tore up everything around him. Maybe that had been what brought him to do this, to try and bury his pain deep within his heart so that he would be able to forget. What had gone wrong, asked Tenshi. Tezuka wasn't supposed to have rejected Fuji. He wanted to be able to comfort Fuji in some sort of sense, and also be able to make sense of these confusing thoughts that had been plaguing him more and more as of late. Surely, Tezuka was just unsure about the whole ordeal. He had thought everything would go so right for Fuji.

"I didn't want to make a huge deal about the whole thing." Fuji seemed to be having mild difficulty speaking. No, not mild. Major difficulty. "I thought… I thought that I could try and get over something myself. I thought that if I was able to do that, I would be strong." Fuji had tears in his eyes, but he still wasn't able to cry. He wanted to be able to deal with his ordeals firmly as he had been able to do in the past. The old Fuji Shuusuke hadn't needed anybody's help. The weakened, watered down version might have only been the result of a hormone imbalance that Fuji wouldn't have even noticed himself until it grew to be too late. Tenshi blinked, unsure of what exactly that needed to be done. All too quickly, all to hastily, he pulled Fuji into his arms and held him close. He didn't want to have to do this. Even when it hurt so badly, he wasn't able to let go. Right now, Fuji needed him, but he wasn't able to help him without feeling like he had wounded him further. Fuji expected reciprocation, yet they could lead to their separation. He remembered having made the deal about how he'd act around Fuji, but the memory was ever so slowly fading from him.

"Here," He was gentle, guiding, but the touch that he used to guide Fuji in the direction of his room was only slight. Fuji seemed to calm down a little, but he looked ashamed, as if it had been ordered that he could no longer accept any help from the man. Though he walked forwards, his eyes were firmly planted down towards the ground. He didn't like what had happened at all, obviously. They reached the staircase and Tenshi had to struggle to help the boy support his own dead weight as he tried to climb the flight. By the time they had finished the task, all traces of tears were gone, though the area around Fuji's eyes was red even when he hadn't cried hard. Fuji sniffed lightly, and Tenshi tried to provide some words of comfort, drifting between his native language and a grammatically incorrect form of Japanese in a weak sort of voice.

His grammar had become even messier, and Fuji couldn't understand very well until Tenshi cleared his throat and worked to dispel his own thoughts. "Is it that you just wanted to forget Tezuka?" The question to Fuji must have been at least a little correct, because the boy nodded and murmured something unintelligible under his breath. A light pain drove itself through his chest, but he managed it. Fuji could find somebody else, he resolved with himself, trying to find some sort of reason in the idea. It would have to be somebody else… somebody other than him. Still, at the same time, Tenshi was nowhere near ready to be able to push Fuji away like that.

"I just," Tenshi hesitated.

"I just want you to be happy, Shuusuke." Fuji wasn't able to understand what exactly the man meant by it, no matter how hard he tried. Why couldn't they? There wasn't anything that could stop them from being together. Pressing his face into Fuji's hair and breathing in the sweet scent, he shook his head. "I can't lose you, I swear… It would be like dying. I'd rather disappear forever." His whisper was painful, barely audible. Lose him? Fuji tilted his head to the side in question. "I swear, I can't lose you," Under any normal circumstance, Fuji would've begun to feel claustrophobic in the close, gentle hold. This wasn't any normal situation though, was it?

If there was something in particular that he was supposed to know, Fuji was absolutely clueless. With Tenshi's reasoning, it brought Fuji to a strange conclusion. Though he said that he would be happy as long as he was seeing Fuji happy, he still wanted to remain in close proximity to Fuji. It was all too confusing. What Fuji really needed was somebody who could love him without consequence. With a relationship, he supposed that the old man would be right. Now he could only regret not heading the warning earlier. He would soon be torn from Fuji if he didn't comply with the rules that had been set. He wouldn't allow it; Tenshi would rather go through a thousand years of anguish than be without Fuji for that long.

"Don't cry, okay?" he was still pleading with Fuji, right there. Begging wasn't something that Tenshi was quite used to at all. Even so, a few tears escaped Fuji's eyes at the very mention of it. Not everyone would describe the sight as heart-rending, but seeing Fuji so wrought with pain tore his heart to pieces and left a very bitter aftertaste in his mouth. "Come on, those tears don't suit you at all. Slowly, Fuji stopped crying. His cheeks were still a little wet. The area around Fuji's eyes was read. After a minute, Fuji hiccupped slightly.

"Thank you, Tenshi," that was all that he was able to tell the man, though he was showing his gratitude for nothing in particular, yet for everything at the same time. Tenshi was able to smile a little bit now, and he shook his head, hands sliding lightly against the tear-stained cheeks. Even now, even after all that he had resolved to do, it was all too hard to pull away. The feeling was so strong that he could have fairly said that he had been chained to Fuji. Unlike a normal situation, he didn't feel that he could just ruffle Fuji's hair and walk forward, pretending as if nothing had ever happened. Fuji was irresistible, though; drawing Tenshi closer and never letting him go. The spell seemed everything but easily breakable.

What Fuji needed was rest, he told himself again. His fever had probably gotten worse, by the looks of it. He looked pretty fragile.

Maybe once more wouldn't hurt… Once more, Tenshi resolved, and that would be the last of everything. Tenshi had to make that vow to himself before he was able to do anything else. It would have been unreasonable to say that he would never touch Fuji again, but it had to be that he would never allow Fuji to kiss him again, or vice-versa. Brushing a kiss lightly, gently to Fuji's lips, he was surprised that Fuji had reacted positively to the gesture.

This couldn't have been proper at all, thought Fuji. Even if it turned out that Fuji did like Tenshi, they shouldn't have been doing such a thing. Together or not, they needed to remember proper etiquette. Besides, it only made the both of them feel more and more desperate; it made them seek something that Tenshi had already stated to be impossible. Why was that? Fuji clung tighter and kisser harder. Why did that have to be the case? Tenshi seemed to have let go of any regrets or second thoughts. His gesture was still gentle, but it didn't have any of the sorts of reluctance that Fuji had sensed before. No, this kiss was more pure, more out of raw need than anything else.

Dizzy… He felt so dizzy.

For a moment, his eyes widened, but fell closed quickly. Tenshi was shocked to feel the once tight grip loosening on him. Dark eyes surveyed Fuji, as he pulled away and relaxed a little in Tenshi's embrace, letting his head come to rest on Tenshi's chest. The dizziness wouldn't go away, though. The dizzy feeling only increased, and he stumbled slightly.

"Shuusuke!" The voice that called his name accented and full of worry was the last thing that Fuji was able to clearly decipher. Everything else was a strange scramble of words that Fuji wasn't able to decipher, that Fuji couldn't even understand for the life of him. Tenshi hadn't been ready to deal with supporting the boy's dead weight when Fuji collapsed, his muscles going weak. The grip around Fuji broken and he was brought tumbling to the ground with Fuji. Fuji met the floor all to fast, though not painfully because Tenshi had helped in breaking his fall, and probably prevented some injuries in the process.

There was a flash of white, and a persistent pain in his head. His vision was blinded with a bright red, and he wasn't even aware that Tenshi was right next to him on the ground, shouting his name worriedly. Though his head throbbed, and he was aware that Tenshi hadn't caught him, he couldn't blame the man because his collapse had been sudden and unexpected. However, the thoughts were all cut off early. Everything went black.

"Shuusuke! Shuusuke!"

Tenshi didn't know when he had last cried, but it was like the accident Fuji had been in all over again, and he could only plead with the unconscious boy while holding back a wave of furious tears. Why was the world such a cruel place? Slowly seeming to realize the situation, then took Fuji temperature. The fever had skyrocketed, and the forehead burned beneath his fingertips. Worriedly, he tried to think of what else to do, and remembering something he'd heard of once, he took Fuji's wrist and did a best to find a pulse. It took him a few minutes; it was faint, but still, Fuji's heart was still beating. One of the cuts on his elbow, a wound that never seemed to heal quite well, had opened up when Fuji fell in a weird position. Fuji's face was resting directly next to the cut and blood had smeared across his cheek when he fell.

The faint warning had remained with him, the one that he was given so long ago that it seemed like forever. The warning was about getting too attached to Fuji. "Dying is normal for everything living," he had been told. "Don't get so attached to Fuji that if he dies, you can't deal with it. Learn the art of letting go. You're going to need it." He knew all of what it meant, but even then, he shunned it. He would have liked to be able to say that he wasn't attached to Fuji, even when he really was pleading with the deities above to spare Fuji, at least for his sake. Tenshi was sure that he wouldn't be able to exist anymore without Fuji. It was a futile, heart-breaking war, a fight that couldn't really be one. _Please extend his time on earth that_ was the only thing he could ask.

As a single tear fell, mingling with the blood on Fuji's cheek, he felt as if he wasn't able to breath again, as if he was drowning. That tear was the sign of said futile war.

Tenshi didn't know what he was supposed to do He couldn't do anything. At least, that was what it seemed like. Almost, it was as if his heart had been stopped by a heavy weight. Was this how Fuji felt when he thought of Tezuka, this pain, and this anguish? Tenshi wouldn't have cared to go into any sort of specifics. All that he was able to do was cling to Fuji and sob, pleading that nothing horrible would befall the boy

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Wha? Cliffahanger? Oh, I'm supposed to cackle now, aren't I? -cue manic laughter- 


	16. Chapter 16

Here we are, another chapter!

I don't have much to say about this one. It's too fuzzy in my opinion. It's probably just a break from my regular angst. Oh, and I didn't clean my room like I was supposed to. I decided I would clean it after I finished writing. Strangely enough, I had a pretty hard time on this chapter.

Disclaimer: As always, the only thing that I own is the general premise around the story, and Tenshi. All the characters, original plot, and anything else is credited to the original owner, including the manga-ka and the animation company. (TV Tokyo is awesome!)

Please read and review! Thank you so much to all the people who have reviewed in the past. It really helps me out a lot!

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**To Sedate- Chapter 16**

"Yes, doctor, I understand." Fuji's mother had busied herself with multiple tasks while the afternoon's bags of groceries remained completely ignored. Upon coming home and looking to see if her son was there, she discovered him; he had collapsed right outside of his bedroom door, collapsed, face red from fever and a cut on his arm.

First, she had practically paced a hole in the floor before deciding what to do. She called the doctor's office and had the doctor on the phone. In any other situation, she would've felt guilty for pulling him away from his work, but her need to assure her son's safety was dire, and he wasn't in a bad enough condition to yet call an ambulance. Somehow, with much effort, she'd triumphed in getting her son into his bedroom and into his bed. It had taken a lot of effort on her part, of course, but finally, she seemed to have succeeded. Fuji head lay propped up on a few pillows, his forehead covered by a cool towel.

"Take his temperature, I see…" She murmured, holding the phone in one hand and the thermometer in the other. She slipped it between his lips and held it there until the temperature had properly registered. "Obana-sensei, his fever is about 38.9 degrees." She nodded slightly. "I'll pick up some fever medicine and give it to him when he wakes up."

She was then feeling his wrist deftly, searching for a pulse. When she found it, she sighed. It was peaceful; just like her son's gentle breathing, unobstructed and calm. However, why he had collapsed was a mystery to her, and she had a feeling that she wouldn't have any idea why that was until Fuji was able to visit the doctor, most likely tomorrow. "I'm sorry for using your time, doctor, but I'm very grateful. Can I schedule a proper appointment for him tomorrow?" She frowned, but nodded after a few minutes.

"Yes, three in the afternoon will work out just fine. Thank you." Even after Fuji's hospital stay, he hadn't been to see the pediatrician. The doctor in the hospital had mentioned the possibility of Fuji having a weakened immune system for a while, but Fuji had never seemed to fall sick. Then again, her son hid things very well, much like a cat. She frowned after he told her clearly things. "No, Shuusuke hasn't seemed very sick. Not until now. All of this is very sudden." Over the phone line, the doctor spoke again.

"Very well, then. Well, I suppose that we should give Fuji-kun some blood tests as well as assess whether or not he's going to need a prescription for a few weeks. This might just be a bad case of the cold, possibly the flu. You say Fuji-kun has collapsed before? When was this?"

"It was a few months ago," she mentioned. "The school told me that it was probably just a case of stress. The school nurse looked him over and said that he probably wasn't physically ill—they told me it was probably just from stress, and if the problem became chronic Shuusuke would probably need to rest for a while.

"Do you think that this might also be because of stress? Fuji-kun seems like a pretty laid back boy, not the one to really worry about things, right?"

"Well, well he was. Shuusuke has been very strange lately. He goes off by himself a lot and has been pretty moody. He refuses to talk about anything."

"Has he seemed out of it ever, maybe even as if he is under a spell."

"Pardon me?"

"Fuji-san, do you know your son's whereabouts, or is it the case that he might be getting involved in something that might be damaging health, bad friends, perhaps a mental illness, or drugs?" At the sound, she jumped. The very idea of her son on drugs startled her, and she didn't like it. Her son was a good boy.

"No- No, I mean, I don't believe Shuusuke would do such a thing to himself. He just seems so… emotionally distraught."

"Very well," He didn't seem to believe her very much. "Fuji-san, I suggest you trying to talk to him about it. You know children, they won't tell you things outwardly, even in the case of your son. Do whatever it takes to get him to tell you. Whatever it is, it will be better if you can help him out with it. Don't rule out the possibility of drugs; the emotional effects might be the result of them. If so, it would also fairly explain the illnesses, and perhaps even explain why he ran out in front of that car a few months ago."

"Obana-sensei, I have a question to ask. Is there any way that a person's emotions can make them sick? Shuusuke has been awfully emotional lately. I was thinking maybe that's the problem."

"In some cases, yes," he answered back. "It depends. Stress weakens the immune system, as does negative feeling and feelings of anger towards anything. In some cases it can be that a person may be doing something to physically harm them, but in other cases the emotions and often, lack of a healthy diet can defeat the immune system, and Fuji-kun will end up catching illnesses that he wouldn't catch if his immune system had. It can be amazing how a few hormones and some bad experiences will affect the human body."

"Yes… Thank you, Obana-sensei. I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"No problem. Good evening, Fuji-san." There was the sound of the click of the other line, and then silence.

"Oh, Shuusuke…" She looked over to her son, lying motionless on the bed. "What in the world have you gotten yourself into?" Her eyes flicked to his bedroom walls. They were plastered with photos. Quite a few of them consisted of Tezuka there, and there was even one that Fuji had managed to take of the two of them together. Fuji was smiling widely, while Tezuka had such a neutral look on his face.

That was it… She could call Tezuka. The thought came to her, seeming like something that would work pretty well. Tezuka and Shuusuke were pretty close friends, and perhaps that was the way she could figure out what was wrong. Tezuka would know if anybody did, and her son seemed so fond of him as a friend. Offhandedly, she didn't know his phone number, but Shuusuke kept a phone book of friends' numbers under his nightstand. In a way, she felt slightly guilty for going through his things, she thought, as she withdrew a battered, slightly worn phone book from under said place. There were a few numbers in there, but Tezuka's was one of the first, and she soon was able to dial it on the phone.

However, after a few rings, she got an answering machine. Her heart fell slightly. "Hello, this is Fuji Yoshiko, calling for Tezuka Kunimitsu-kun. If it's possible, I would appreciate that he would call me back as soon as it's convenient, I-" There was the sound of the phone being picked up.

"I apologize, Fuji-san. I wasn't able to pick up the phone sooner." The deep voice might've sounded a lot older than Tezuka really was, but she was able to recognize it. "Is there something I would be able to help you with?"

"Well, I was just wondering…" She paused for a moment. "Shuusuke has been acting strangely lately, and I was thinking that you two seem to be such good friends, you might be able to tell me if there's anything that might be troubling him. I'm really sorry to drop this on you, and I probably sound so rude, but I'm very worried about him. You see, I was out of the house today and I came home to find that he's collapsed." There was a tense silence after that.

"What's wrong with him?" He asked, first and foremost.

"We don't know. I've spoken with the doctor and he seems okay now; he's just sleeping. I'm going to bring him in to get a blood test tomorrow, but I was wondering if there's something that I should know that might be causing this." Tezuka seemed to have difficulty speaking after that.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure there's much I can say," he replied. Again, Yoshiko's heart sank regrettably. Tezuka's voice picked up again. "Well, I think this might be partially my fault—why he's been so strange, lately." Tezuka said nothing more.

"Tezuka-kun, why would it be your fault? You're very supportive of Fuji, and I'd imagine that he appreciates everything that you do for him." Fuji's mother was only speaking of experience of knowing that he'd stayed by Fuji's side at the hospital. That was the only side of Tezuka that she had seen. Tezuka's throat clenched painfully at her words.

"No, it's not that," he said, voice soft.

"Then what is it, Tezuka-kun?"

"Well," he started, clearing his throat, seeming to have difficulty in saying it. "Fuji came to me with his problems and I avoided him because of it." Tezuka seemed guilty because of it. "I avoided him, and I'm sorry. If Fuji is doing any physical harm to himself, I can't be of any help to you, because I wouldn't know that much."

"Tezuka-kun…" She started, trying to ask what problems he had come to him with, what he had told Tezuka that pushed the two apart, and what was tearing her son apart so much. Something told her that Tezuka wasn't ready to say what exactly was, and he wouldn't even if he asked her.

"I apologize, Fuji-san, I can't help you anymore. If it isn't too much trouble, I was wondering if you could ask Fuji to call me tomorrow. I'd like to talk to him."

"I'll do that, Tezuka-kun."

"All right," he said, his voice sounding slightly strange, filled with

Thank goodness, Tenshi could only think. Thank goodness that Fuji's mother had come home and was on the phone with the doctor. Tenshi didn't move him, mostly so that Fuji's mother would notice. If she found Fuji in his bed, then she might assume that he was asleep, and that would be denying Fuji the benefit of medical attention. As the situation calmed, be began to see clearer. Maybe this wasn't something to worry about. After all, Fuji wasn't being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. He was just scheduled for a doctor's appointment tomorrow afternoon.

Tears had pricked his eyes for the first time in many years, and Tenshi had wanted to punch the person in the face who had caused this, even though there was absolutely nobody that he was able to blame. He didn't _want _to see Fuji like this. It tore so painfully at his heart that he gasped.

Fuji truly looked like he was asleep now, a quiet, soft look on his face aside from the slight tint of fever. Compared to how he looked in the hospital, he wasn't as crippled; however; he lay in a strange position despite his mother's attempts and looked vulnerable. He didn't know why he hadn't noticed Fuji had gotten pretty thin. Tenshi pushed the covers aside slightly so that he could see Fuji lying there. His legs had lost extreme muscle mass, and now looked thin, slim, and weak. Under his shirt, ribs probably poked at skin, creating stark contrast. The sight of an emaciated-looking Fuji made him feel dizzy, sick to his stomach.

The night brought darkness, and Fuji's mother bustling in and out among her daily household chores. Eventually it became late enough that Fuji's mother finally decided to stop replacing the cool cloth on his forehead, when Fuji's temperature had descended back into its normal range. However, when she left his room to get some sleep around midnight, a nightmarish fantasy consisting of only silence descended upon the room. The one thing that his mother had neglected to do was draw the curtains before she left. It was a full moon that night, and rays descended onto the bed, decorating Fuji's skin with shadows and silhouettes.

The indefinable contour of another hand rested on the linen sheets, coming to rest for a while on his cheek, touching the skin as if he would harm it, as if it was flawless, though no human could possibly be like that. Ever since Fuji's mother had retired to bed, it had been deathly quiet, and Tenshi found no reason to break that silence. She had been the only one to be in that day. Yuuta and Yumiko weren't there. Yuuta was probably clueless to his brother's condition, and sleeping now soundly in his school dormitory.

In any other situation, his quiet, dark, waiting eyes might have been mistaken to be crossed with boredom, but now he seemed to be waiting for Fuji to wake up, with patience that he showed nobody except one person. Tezuka wouldn't have gotten this patience, nor would anybody, not even a family member. No, this was reserved just for the boy. (In fact, Tezuka was probably the least likely candidate for Tenshi's patience.) It had grown over the while, from something where Fuji wasn't able to get along with Tenshi, to something where he actually could live with him and get along well. Tenshi had always seemed a little strange, but he was growing to understand Fuji's motives more.

It seemed like Fuji had lain there for an eternity, and he began to wonder about what that blood test he would be given tomorrow would turn up. Tenshi could only hope that this wasn't anything serious, that it would be something that Fuji could get up and brush up. The test was probably just for precaution, but Tenshi still worried. There was something that wasn't quite right about Fuji's health. He had to say that Fuji's collapse had shocked him, even if the fever hadn't. For heaven's sake, he'd been sitting out in the rain for who knew how long before he found him, so it wouldn't have been surprising if he caught a mild could.

Yet… it was just that…

A cold didn't cause people to collapse. A cold wouldn't have produced such sever results. Tenshi didn't know what else it might have been, because Fuji seemed like the type who was always pretty healthy and had been able to evade severe infection up until this point. However, whatever had been of Fuji's immune system seemed to be gone. Fuji appeared as weak as a dying hospital patient, condemned helplessly to a slow and drawn-out death.

"You'll be all right, Shuusuke." This was just a promise to himself, a hopeless promise that lay hope for a tomorrow. Fuji should be fine, though, at least that was what he told himself. He'd seen that look of pain in Fuji's eyes before he collapsed, though, and something visibly bothered him about it. His mind was jumping to conclusions, and he wasn't sure of what to think of anything anymore. Whatever sanity and logical reason Tenshi had, it was no longer there, for he just wasn't able to conjure up something coherent that could've helped in the slightest.

When he thought of what would happen to Fuji, he liked to imagine that whatever it was, Fuji would have a long, healthy life ahead off him. After this, Tenshi liked to reason that Fuji's life would be problem-free and he could go on with relatively little trouble. That couldn't have been true, though, because there wasn't a person in the world who could live almost an entire lifetime without any problems at all, problems that slowed a person down, problems as distracting as the ones the ones that were happening now. All he could do was reason that Fuji didn't deserve it, and that it made him the unhappiest person in the world to see him have to go through it all.

His mind was boggled at what had happened all that time, what had dragged onwards, and what was bothering him most. Before Fuji had fainted, he had given reason to something that still didn't make sense. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Things weren't supposed to spin as out of control like this. After all, Tenshi was supposed to have more self-composure. He was an adult. Fuji was not. He was supposed to be the one who knew what to do; he was supposed to be the one who could make rational decision. Most of all, he was not supposed to act on impulse like he had today. Now his head repeated what had happened today, and he wasn't able to forget any of it. A firm, iron grip remained on his memories.

Fuji stirred lightly beneath his touch, nothing big, though. Fuji had done that a few times previously that night; it was just a restless sleep, nothing to worry too much about. The calm, stable breathing remained unimpeded.

So…. Maybe Tenshi _was_ making a big deal out of nothing. Maybe Fuji just was sick, and he was overestimating thing and in a way, whining a little about the whole thing. Strange, though, because in that sense, he had never in that sense been somebody who worried too much; he only did it in Fuji's case. He worried so extensively about the boy that it wasn't even funny, and probably even more than a parent generally would. He just couldn't stop it, because he never wanted to see Fuji as hurt as when he had been in the accident, so frozen in pain and out of his reach.

That day, it had been Tezuka's turn to hold him, to be stunned as Fuji whispered emotions under his breath, something he wouldn't have said if he were conscious. Here he now, and there was no Tezuka. The closest he was, it sounded like, calling Fuji. A while ago, he'd heard a snippet of a conversation from the woman. She had spoken with Tezuka, and as it turned out, Fuji was supposedly going to be told to call Tezuka the following day. In a way it hurt his heart while making him feel slightly better overall, because he knew that if the two at least talked, a few things would be resolved between the two. Fuji had been in a world of unending guilt for driving Tezuka away from him, Tenshi supposed, and it would be good for the two to at least patch up their now meager friendship. Emotionally, Fuji would benefit from it more than anybody else could imagine, and that made him feel slightly better; he still wanted to think that Fuji liked Tezuka, even after all the things had been said today. Justifiably, the boy had been upset, and Tenshi should've expected him to say such reckless things.

However, from Fuji, he hadn't expected it, because Fuji was anything but reckless. All situations, usually, he seemed to go into them knowing that he could do it, or having adequate reason for it. Fuji always seemed to know if he was able to come out on top or not, and it must have been confusing for him not to be able to understand what exactly would happen. That might have been what caused him to turn to Tenshi, and the man felt it was partially his fault because he had been the one who had tried to stay the one constant, reliable thing in his life.

After a while, it seemed, Fuji was awake, but Tenshi had long since drifted not into sleep, but into a dazed state, so he didn't notice when Fuji stirred slightly again, shifting uncomfortably under the blankets and putting his fingers to his temples, massaging them to get rid of a slight headache. Tenshi had long since learned that if he allowed time, Fuji would wake up, and he would be just fine. It was just like the day at the hospital. Except then, Fuji had been complaining of feeling like he beaten by a wooden baseball bat. Now, he seemed fine save for feeling a little tired and having a distant headache. The older man's attention wasn't alerted until Fuji sat up.

"Hey, I didn't know that you were awake," Tenshi acknowledged. Fuji flinched slightly under his voice, as if it made his head throb. Considerately he lowered his tone to a gentle whisper, and Fuji seemed a lot more satisfied, grateful. Fuji nodded a little. His knees were pulled up to his chest, hugging them close, tight. A small smile was on Fuji's lips.

"I just woke up a while ago." Fuji paused for a minute as a thoughtful silence passed. "How long have I been asleep" Obviously, his eyes hadn't strayed to the clock. Tenshi nodded a little. Fuji, surprisingly, wasn't as dazed as Tenshi had expected him to be. He was considerably calmer. The unconsciousness must not have been plagued with nightmares like such things sometimes were, because his emotions seemed to have settled greatly. Tenshi brushed a gentle hand across his cheek, and Fuji smiled, but then frowned slightly, shifting his position and gazing up at the wall.

"Is there something wrong? Are you all right?"

Fuji shook his head. "No, no, I'm just fine." His reply was the same as it had been for a long time. Tenshi was long since over even trying to believe the routine. "I'll be just fine," Though this was only a variance on the phrase, this seemed to have a little more truth, and Tenshi was able to relax. "Things are just a little different than they used to be, especially in junior high."

Fuji hadn't even need to say that. From his third year in Seishun Gakuen, to his first year in high school, he'd not only weakened physically, but mentally, he wasn't up to the same things he was in junior high. Namely, his strong confidence had worn. People who had once thought of him as a "sadist" would take a double take on him now.

In the literal sense, Fuji had never been a sadist. By definition, a sadist was someone who "derived sexual pleasure from inflicting pain and humiliation upon others." Fuji toyed with his opponents, and at times could be called manipulative, but never exactly found a sort of "sexual pleasure in it." No, that wasn't the case at all. The only time he got really, really mad was when somebody he cared about was at stake, and then Fuji would have no mercy. He was only out on a mission to humiliate. That was especially true during a match between he and Mizuki Hajime, when he had found out about how careless the boy was to his younger brother. Aside from all that, Fuji would never think of hurting or humiliating his family, or Tezuka especially. The farthest it had ever went was some light teasing on Yuuta's part, and that happened with many siblings. Fuji cared deeply for his younger brother.

Now, though, that he couldn't even play tennis, that little thing was gone. Fuji had lost that power, considering he could barely walk well now. It would be a good few weeks before he could walk without that much difficulty, even though he'd taken the cast off a good few months ago. He still wore braces on his left knee walking to and from school. Especially since he'd had surgery on it, the doctor was wary about how he hurt himself.

Fuji wanted to tell himself that he would be able to play tennis again soon, once he was fully healed. He wanted to not just for Tezuka, but also for himself. When he was in junior high, he wouldn't have though he'd mind it so much. After all, he had photography. He had his camera. Now that he wasn't able to play tennis, though, he was having trouble adjusting to life without it, and unlike how he'd brought his racquet to school every day before, now it just seemed to sit in a corner save for the times Fuji would swing it around just to remind his arms what it felt like to hold a racquet.

"You're sure?" Tenshi's question broke his pensiveness.

"I'm just fine, Tenshi. I think I'm going to get some water now, though." He pushed himself up to a better positing, frowning as he placed his legs on the ground and used his remaining strength to pull himself to his feet. The ground felt cool beneath his bare feet, and Fuji shivered slightly in the night air. Eventually when he got his balance he limped towards the stairs, Tenshi following close behind.

When downstairs he filled a glass from the tap and sat at the table, his eyes focused solely down at the water. The memories from earlier didn't fail to linger, and now that it was later and the fever had gone, Fuji seemed to be having a harder time understanding it all. Tenshi always had to remind himself that Fuji was an adult. Despite how much he seemed to know, there were some things that he would still ponder until he got a little older and had a little more experience with it all. Part of it was probably just depression speaking, not his unexplained love for Tezuka. Fuji just liked to call it that, because he couldn't find a better reason. However, Tenshi knew it wasn't the case even though he seemed to accept that explanation.

"You think too much, you know that, right?" It was more an acknowledgment than a question, because Tenshi already knew very well about Fuji's tendency to over think and over complicate situations simply because of this simple fact about him. Fuji paused as if to think up a retort as he sipped from the glass of water. It was nice to be able to drink some water; it soothed his dry throat.

"Is that worse than rushing blindly into things?" His slight retort was in form of a question, challenging slightly at it though in a playful manner, surprisingly.

"No, but you still need to learn to find a healthy balance between the two. You know what it means to listen to your impulses, right? You should try it sometimes. It's less complicated." There was a chuckle at the end of the statement, and it brought a small smile to Fuji's face.

"I'm not an impulsive person," he said back, calmly, though it was more something that a person would've expected Tezuka Kunimitsu to say. "Besides, what did following your impulses do for a person except get them into trouble? If I had an impulse to jump off a cliff, should I follow it? No, I don't think I would unless I wanted to die."

"Ah, I see," Tenshi's smile grew wider and he chuckled again. Fuji gave him a strange, questioning look.

"What's so funny?" he asked, his voice still slightly challenging even though every few moments he would take a calm sip from the glass of water to calm his dry throat. Fuji's eyes opened for a fraction of a second, the cool blue cutting across the room as he surveyed the man.

"Oh, it's nothing, really." Tenshi fell silent, and Fuji had nothing else to say.

"Fine, then." Fuji smiled to himself with victory; he had, for once, one this argument, and it was a nice feeling to have, strange as the very idea might have seemed. He thought that he really needed to play tennis more again. He missed being on top like he had when he was playing tennis. Secretly, he was cheering for this small victory, because Tenshi was always the one who had the last word in their conversations. Now that it was he instead of the other man, Fuji felt like cheering in victory. It was such a silly thing, but so vastly important to Fuji. He'd finished his water, so he stood and went to the sink. All he could think was that he was glad Tenshi was easier to talk do than the ever-silent Tezuka. Fuji might have made too many comparisons between the two. Though he'd never really minded Tezuka's silence, it made the boy hard to understand and communicate with, as opposed to Tenshi who always seemed ready to talk about anything and everything.

About that day… Fuji was feeling a little less confused. Things were beginning to fall into place as he allowed himself time to think. Things made more sense than before. Why did he like Tenshi? "Why" wasn't really an accurate description in the end; it ended up that Fuji really had an accurate description for it. Tenshi had always been there for him, ever since he met. All Fuji wanted was to know more about the man, and to be closer to him, strange as he was. Fuji didn't see anything wrong with that, either. In fact, he felt completely normal whenever he thought about it.

Even now, Tenshi was following closely at his heels, as if he expected that Fuji was going to collapse again and he needed to be there to catch them. The very thought, strangely enough, made Fuji want to laugh a little. It may have been a silly thing to do, but there was something slightly amusing about it, and now that Fuji was feeling a little more normal than he had as of late, he understood why. This was fondness, wasn't it? Strange, though, because in a way, it wasn't at all like the media made it out to be. The feeling was something hard to detect, and Fuji could barely sense it. All he knew was that he was really attached to Tenshi.

"You look happier," Tenshi pointed out, seeming a little happier that Fuji was perking up after all that had happened. It was a very nice feeling indeed, to see Fuji giving a smile that wasn't a fake, and in a sense was the brightest one he'd given in a very long time.

Fuji shrugged a little, but still answered calmly. "I am, I guess." That was true. _It's all thanks to you, too._ Fuji felt that he'd still be miserable if it hadn't been for Tenshi trying to cheer him up all the time. It was amazing in his mind what the efforts of one person could do. Just a while ago, Tenshi had been a complete stranger and an absolute foreigner, but now it felt as if Tenshi was very familiar to his heart.

"Well, I'm glad." Unwillingly, he stood up and walked over to Fuji. "Shuusuke should be happy. That is what I always wanted." He hadn't implied that time that Fuji could be happy without Tezuka. Perhaps he still thought that he was able to get them together, somehow. Fuji found it strange that he showed such affection, even when he intended for Fuji to confess to Tezuka. He'd always supported him in that sense. He'd always believed in the idea that a relationship between Fuji and Tezuka would work out just fine.

"Mm," he commented lightly. Arms embraced him, and Fuji felt the smile fade lightly from his lips for only about a minute.

"You're strange, Tenshi," he commented lightly under his breath, though there was a fondness from that statement, no matter how many times that he had said it before.

"I know that," he commented. "I've always been strange. You're not the first one to tell me." One might have mistaken his tone for being offended, but Fuji knew better. Tenshi never really minded when Fuji called him strange. In fact, he almost seemed to be proud of it in some strange way. His arms tightened a fraction around Fuji, keeping him close even though Fuji had no intention of moving away.

Exhaling and closing his eyes again, Fuji returned the embrace without much thought to it, his breathing gentle and calm. He didn't want to let go, no matter what. "I like that about you, though," it was a strange thing to admit, that he found Tenshi interesting because he was different. In the beginning, it had scared him all too much, but now it felt a little more natural, and Fuji was more easygoing about it.

"Really?"

"Yeah,"

Fuji had never imagined it before, but this time, he really felt as if he would be able to be happy like this, now and forever. Not even the haunt of illness deterred him. Fuji didn't care about that right now, even though he had collapsed earlier.

If this was what true happiness was, Fuji liked it.

* * *

Will be continued. 


	17. Chapter 17

I'm sorry for the delay… I've been distracted.

As always, reviews are loved, and constructive criticism is especially loved.

Disclaimer: Everything is trademark of Konomi Takeshi, except for Tenshi and my own plot. Thank you, Konomi Takeshi! These characters are only being borrowed for a while, and I am not writing this for a profit. Merely my own humor; I have not a life.

* * *

**To Sedate- Chapter 17**

Tenshi was strange, and requested that he meet somebody the next day. Tenshi mentioned something about a doctor's appointment being scheduled for him, and a blood test. Was his mother really that worried? Fuji was unsure about the whole thing, and he was feeling guilty. There was far too much going on for Fuji to like. Silently, he followed the path back to his bed like a ghost, silently.

"Tenshi," he paused, "Is there any chance you can tell me a story?"

That tiredness had obviously faded away in place of a curiosity. "Tell me about yourself, the things that you've seen. Surely, there are things that you would like to talk about." Fuji gave a tiny, thin smile at this. "Tell me about you." _I want to no more. I want to be able to absorb everything._

"Really?" he paused for a minute and smiled, sitting on the bedside. "I thought you quite liked my stories about ghosts and everything. Aren't they exciting for you? Surely, you wouldn't want to hear about my life." He smiled, though and complied with Fuji's wish even before he had answered.

"Yes, I want to hear your take on things." Perhaps it was just because Fuji was bored, and perhaps it was just because Tenshi felt like humoring Fuji that he decided to tell him. After all, Tenshi had been so dodgy about his past before. All the combinations of the 'perhaps' questions blended together in his mind and confused him. Surely, there was a logical explanation to this confusion. There was an answer to that. There had to be.

Maybe… maybe the reason Tenshi evaded the subject of his past so much. Did the fact that something bad had happened that he chose not to tell much about his past. Did he have skeletons in the closet that were haunting him? If so, they weren't very vengeful skeletons, because he lived a fairly easy and laid back lifestyle. "What exactly do you want to know so badly about me?" he asked quietly, though the smile was still evident on his face, the smile that Fuji had become all too familiar with.

"You just are always so mysterious. Don't you get tired of holding everything in?" Fuji thought about how he might go to somebody else; it all seemed incredibly stupid to him because whenever he tried to think of Tenshi as being a tangible being, his head began to hurt. There were too many complex situations where somebody should have noticed the man and they hadn't. It was too complex to be a prank.

Yet Tenshi wasn't one, at least…

Fuji shook his head hurriedly; he was beginning to doubt it all, before his head spun and he wasn't able to think any more. It just didn't make sense.

"Shuusuke," Tenshi's gentle, familiar voice interrupted him, and he turned. Tenshi moved closer to him, leaning close so that he could whisper in the boy's ear. "Remember this; I'm not a hallucination. See, we can touch." There hands touched, and Tenshi laced his fingers with Fuji. "See?"

Fuji felt unexplainably uncomfortable, and was forced in the end to draw his hand away. Tenshi gave a fluid laugh.

"Shuusuke, sometimes I think that I should be the one calling you strange. You're not yourself." It was meant to be humorous, gentle; he didn't say it in the absolutely confused tone that Fuji usually said it in.

That earned him a cool, yet fleeting look. There was something wrong, he sensed, something wrong with everything going on. Fuji shrugged lightly. "Tenshi, do normal teenagers go through this? Did you?" He asked suddenly, offhandedly. Tenshi seemed surprised at the question.

"Well, I wouldn't say that I went through it as a teen, but don't count yourself as alone, because you aren't," he answered truthfully.

"Really?"

"Yeah,"

Fuji shifted his legs lightly, seeming uncomfortable. "Do you still feel pain, Shuusuke?" Fuji smiled, a deep, engraved smile, his eyes flicking open for a second. A few strands of his hair obstructed his view, but Fuji ignored it.

"Yes, but it isn't bothersome. I think it might just be chronic."

"Really? You don't need any painkillers or anything?" he asked, even though he knew what the answer was going to be. Fuji shook his head.

"No, I will be fine." Fuji pulled his knees up to his chest and smiled fondly. "What I want to know is about you past, your stories. Remember, you said that you would tell me." A moment of silence passed between them again, but Fuji didn't seem to mind, and neither did Tenshi. Fuji felt as if he was forcing somebody unmovable into a corner, which wasn't a wise thing to do. Fuji ignored the feeling, though.

Tenshi, on the other hand, though, was wondering why exactly he allowed Fuji's allure to take over. Fuji wasn't trying in general to be seductive or anything, he just wanted to know something. However, just like when he had asked where Tenshi left, he was giving the man a certain look, and Tenshi knew that it would be harder to deny him this little information. It shouldn't have mattered, yet to Tenshi, it did, simply because he thought that Fuji would think less of him with the more he knew.

That, supposedly, though, was the reason why there were disadvantages to love. As the old man said, Fuji won him over in all aspects, and pretty much weakened him. If he were to lose Fuji at any time, he would be in pain, because unlike Fuji he didn't die, and he would have to live with the pain of losing a loved one for a lot longer of a time.

"Mm," he commented back. "I do suppose that I promised you that I would," he said thoughtfully. There was a light-hearted look on Fuji's face; he seemed very pleased that he would be given the opportunity. Tenshi didn't know why the couldn't stick with the ghost stories; he was so much better at telling those, and though Fuji claimed many times that he didn't believe in ghosts, he seemed to enjoy listening to folktales and myths from different countries.

"Well, you know I was born in Russia, but I lived in the Netherlands. My parents were a strange pair. My mother was from an extremely affluent Russian family, and they were taking a trip across Europe. My mom was only seventeen when she met my father, but I remember my father said that they absolutely fell in love." It was slow going, especially with Tenshi's grammar ability. Sometimes, he would have to pause to remember a word, or Fuji would have to ask him to explain something because he had made a mistake in his wording. Overall, though, Fuji could see from this simple thing how much better Tenshi was getting at Japanese in general. His voice a rough, still accented, but Fuji had grown to like it. That voice was unique, unlike anything that he'd ever heard. It was a sign that comfort was there.

"It resulted in an affair, not too long, but enough that by the time my mother had to go back to Russia, she had been pregnant, against her parents' rules, though. The thing was that they were both Russian, though my father was half Dutch. You see, they had an arranged marriage set up for my mother, and not wanting to carry through with it, my mother did the only thing she could think of, unheard of almost anybody at that time. She agreed to meet up with my father and they ran. They stayed long enough in Russia that I lived there for about a year, but then they decided to go back to the Netherlands."

It sounded like a sickly romantic tale. Tenshi explained about how his father had been the son of a poor Dutch fisherman, and that his mother's parents would never have her marrying such a destitute young man. In an era where a young girl such as she was always expected to listen to her father's order, she disobeyed it, probably risking her life to flee the country with a man she'd fallen in love with in a fling during her family's travels.

Fuji wondered to himself about how exactly things had happened, what had driven his mother to do such a reckless thing.

Then it hit him, where Tenshi had inherited that crazy streak in him, and why he always seemed so senseless. It made him chuckle to think that he also had a mother like that and her son had inherited that. His father was probably a man of sense, who was always saying something along the lines of "Now, now, let's not be reckless." Fuji got a picture of Tezuka in his head, and this time, he couldn't help but burst into laughter. Tenshi was only able to raise an eyebrow in question. Fuji quickly stifled the laughter.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he apologized as his laughter quieted. Tenshi was giving him a strange look. "So, what happened with your parents?" He tried to be polite again in acknowledging the conversation. He looked to the window, his eyes open. The moonlight shone in them, causing them to glow slightly.

"My mother died during childbirth a few years ago, so I only had my father after that. He was a nice man, but we were never to close." So basically, after his mother died, their family life had fallen apart. Tenshi's father had probably lost passion after the woman he loved so much as to bring all the way across the continent of Europe, probably bearing many treacheries along the way had died.

"So what brought you to Japan?" he asked, trying to get Tenshi to continue.

"I think that's quite enough for tonight, Shuusuke. I am keeping you awake, and you need rest, too." He stood up quickly, excusing himself from the proximity of the younger boy rather in a rushed manner. Fuji could only blink, before closing his eyes again, as if to show a sign of disappointment and disapproval. Damn, Tenshi hated that look. Did Fuji do that to him on purpose? He wouldn't imagine it so, but still, it was pretty annoying.

"I'm not tired," he stated firmly, stubbornly. "I've probably been asleep for seven hours." Why wouldn't Tenshi tell him why he came to America? All he knew more about Tenshi was his parents, and that wasn't much. There, his knowledge of the man dropped of suddenly, almost painfully. Tenshi seemed to be thinking of an excuse, something, anything.

"Then come on, I have somebody I want you to meet," Tenshi said hurriedly, grabbing his wrist and pulling him to his feet. Fuji looked slightly stunned.

"Somebody?" Who was Fuji going to meet at this time of the night? Who in the world who would be awake to meet? Fuji thought that their original plan was to go meet this person after his doctor's appointment tomorrow afternoon. Why were they going now? It seemed slightly… dodgy that they would be meeting somebody right _now_.

"Yes, somebody," he replied, rather mechanically. "Are you going to come, or am I going to carry you?" Fuji, against his will, felt his cheeks turn red, and could have sworn that that Tenshi smiled at such a thing. Only a few months ago, he would have been the one to turn somebody's cheeks red with blush, but now it seemed that Tenshi had that sort of power over him. His touch slipped to Fuji's elbow, touching the arm lightly, and Fuji stopped for just a moment. There was a slightly mischievous look on Tenshi's face, and the soft, regular smile that he always wore.

"I can walk," he answered simply, feeling more like Tezuka at the moment. "Really, I'm fine." It was strange to be speaking as such when he really was limping around, being careful when he descended the flight of stairs. Tenshi looked worried for a moment, as if he expected that Fuji was going to fall. No, Fuji was too careful to do that, and he dealt with the distinct limp himself as him made his way down the steps and retrieved his shoes at the front door, along with an overcoat. He buttoned it and then slipped his shoes on. "Let's go," he said.

"Are you sure? You're limping pretty badly."

"It'll be fine," his voice was now chiding, soft and sweet. His smile was there, full and complete. "You remember; it's just a limp. It may affect my walking a little bit, but I'm not stupid. I'm not going to do anything to get myself hurt.

"All right then," Somehow, Tenshi was beginning to doubt it. All he could regret was if something happened to Fuji while they were out. He hadn't wanted to do this; he had just jumped to it when Fuji pressed his questions a little too far. It was all almost too uncomfortable for him, because Fuji was pushing the line of death too much for comfort. One day, he might have given somebody a heart attack.

Fuji was a little scared, if anything, and he hoped that Tenshi wasn't able to see the slight, yet distinct tremble that ran though him for just a fraction of a second. Why was he going with him at this time of night? He didn't really know Tenshi, and the man had shown a potential to be creepy sometimes. Tenshi would barely let Fuji know anything about him… Yet, Fuji felt safe with the man, like he could trust him. There was a warning voice in the back of his head, telling him that this wasn't good, and that he shouldn't be doing this. It escalated his heartbeat; it made breathing hard.

Then, there was Tenshi's calm presence, and Fuji's irregular heartbeat slowed to a calmer one. His breathing was deeper now, and Tenshi took his hand.

"Here, just follow me," His voice was gentle, and something that anybody would easily trust. Tenshi had his quirks, and he was strange. Fuji could even fairly say sometimes that Tenshi was frightening, mostly because of the thought of him being a hallucination. Were hallucinations tangible? Everything Fuji had ever learned contradicted the idea. Tenshi… said many times that he wasn't a hallucination.

How could he really tell, though?

How could he tell that this wasn't some form of schizophrenia, and he wasn't going to be lead to a bridge and told to jump? He tried to reassure himself that such things only happened in movies, yet he was reminded painfully that schizophrenia was a very real thing. Why would something like an opposite personality kiss him, though? Why would a personality hug him in the manner that Tenshi did? It was like all the pieces of three five hundred piece jigsaw puzzles had been thrown together, and he was expected to put all the puzzles together in a set time limit. It just made absolutely no sense, and Fuji hated it for the life of him. Tenshi seemed to sense it, and he gave Fuji's had a little, reassuring squeeze.

"I promise this won't take long,"

He was being led along a strange route though, of twisting roads alleyways, and they were even walking on an empty highway at one time. Tenshi's hand stayed with him, and Fuji felt slightly pathetic at it. He felt like he was a weak woman that needed to be guided, and it wasn't the most pleasant feeling in the world. He wished that Tenshi would let go, even though he never could muster up the voice to ask him to. There was a distinct sigh; somehow, it burned Fuji's lungs when he exhaled, as if in turn, he had inhaled poison. Tenshi's eyes were focused firmly ahead, pulling him gently.

The summer night was cool, though Fuji didn't like the fact that he had worn a jacket, he felt that the police would pick him up if he were wearing pajamas and nothing else; it would look as if he ran away. Somebody would probably think it suspicious, but Fuji remained cool about everything, and all the people he came across said nothing to him, as if he were invisible. Tenshi merely pulled him along, as they grew farther and farther away from home.

"Hey," Tenshi shouted out into the night. They were in a park now, far away from home. It was particularly forested here, and Tenshi bid him to sit on the bench, releasing his hand almost too quickly. Surprisingly, Fuji felt slightly empty now that they weren't holding hands, but it didn't seem as if Tenshi was very intent on it at this moment, as if he didn't want the people who were going to meet them knowing about anything. In a way, it made sense. He could think better now, and all he was thinking was that he was glad that this wasn't a bridge and that he wasn't being asked to jump. "They'll come in a minute," he informed Fuji.

Sure enough, soon enough, out of the brush, a man and a boy appeared. The man was very old, and the boy was pretty young, aging probably around twelve years. The man appeared Japanese, but the boy looked slightly different. He was taller than many Japanese children, and there was something very striking about his extremely pale skin and bright blue eyes, cold, yet even brighter than Fuji's.

"Tenshama," Fuji heard Tenshi being referred to by his full name, if that even was his real name. "I'm glad that you've brought Fuji here, though it would do good if it weren't so late at night." His voice was strict and cool, keeping everything in line. Fuji got one idea in his head, and that was this man was not the sort of person he wanted to cross. He sounded like a man of strict discipline. Unconsciously, Fuji lowered his head in respect, but then straightened his back, keeping his eyes at a respectful level. Tenshi gave him a strange look. Even now, he wasn't used to the traditional custom of bowing when meeting somebody. Tenshi paused.

"Yes, sir."

Fuji had never heard him speak in such a respectful manner. It made Fuji incline his head lightly again, perhaps as a gesture to the younger boy as well, or just perhaps again to the man, to show quiet respect. He looked over to Tenshi, begging to explain and introduce. Tenshi looked caught in the middle.

In truth, he was trying to search for names he could give Fuji. He could imagine the old man swelling like a balloon at the knowledge that he hadn't told Fuji yet, but he needed to do this. Somehow, though, the only thing that came to his mind was a name that had been on a cartoon when Fuji was flipping through the channels one day. "Shuusuke, this is… Ryuk-sensei…"

Ryuk-sensei? That was horrible. Fuji would probably recognize the lie right away, even though he might not point it out. If things weren't explained soon, Fuji would be pestering him with questions later, and Tenshi's head was beginning to hurt from all that was going on. Hesitantly, the old man volunteered a tilt of the head to show the strangeness of the situation. "He's…" He brought up his voice, but before he could speak, the boy interrupted.

"Kaz." The boy spoke?

All the time he had known him, he thought that boy was mute, and forever chained to the old man. It was hard for him to explain. "Tenshi?" Fuji interrupted. This wasn't a gentle look; it was Fuji's "tell me what's going on, or else" sort of look, and Tenshi wasn't really liking it, especially considering that that

"You haven't told him yet, have you?"

Tenshi didn't need to be looking at Fuji to tell that his eyes had sharpened considerably. There was probably anger in them, though he refused to look Fuji in the eye for the time being. It was just too hard for him to do right now.

"Well, I just don't know how to put it."

"So you've been with this boy almost constantly for six months, and he doesn't even know why you're there? I'm telling you right now, Tenshama, you're pushing it," the man warned. "I mind as well tell him so he doesn't stay in the dark much longer." His eyes turned to him, and his resolve softened just slightly considering this wasn't Tenshi. Fuji was staring, and rude as he knew it was, he needed to know what was going on.

"You're familiar with spirits, right, Fuji?" Fuji found it so strange that this man knew to refer to him by his family name, but Tenshi insisted on calling him 'Shuusuke'. It made Tenshi's use of the name seem even more intimate, making him shiver.

"Yes," he replied. Wait, he stopped himself. If possible, his gaze turned even cooler. "Is this some sort of game? I don't believe in ghosts."

The man seemed to smile just a little bit, just slightly. "You don't need to think of anything as ghosts if you don't wish. We are merely spirits, here to help people like you." There was a pause, and Fuji suddenly realized that he was expecting some sort of response from him.

"Guardian angels." He stated, though the words fell strangely off of his tongue, because he'd never expected that one day he would have to speak them in a serious manner at all. Tenshi seemed to regret everything, though Fuji's resolve was still hardened towards him. He knew Tenshi had lied, from the beginning, but it was always slightly more angering, if not relieving, when one learned the truth.

"If you wish to call us that, then you may do so. When a person dies, as most people believe most of the dead will go through some form of judgment. However, there are some people with unusually high sensitivity to human emotions who are chosen to remain on earth as spirits and guide those who have lost their way." It seemed simple enough, but then the man continued.

"The person is always technically in training," His voice hinted at more things. _If Tenshi were more cooperative, he would be one of our top agents. He was chosen for his ability to reach out and touch people, but that seems to go too far. He flirts with those he's supposed to be teaching and lets his emotions take over._ Fuji could very well see that, though not completely all of it. To imagine Tenshi as a sort of guardian angel though seemed unbelievable, impossible.

"As you can well imagine, we go around to people suffering emotionally, and correct that. That's in your case." _Tenshi seems to have done a good job in that sense, though Fuji is still emotionally a wreck. Tenshi does try, even though he sometimes isn't successful._ "Here's where you come in, Fuji. Are you at all familiar with theories of paranormal phenomena?" Tenshi had told him stories, not theories. Slowly, Fuji shook his head.

"This is going to take a little bit of explaining," he muttered to himself, slightly frustrated.

"Imagine that emotions can be conveyed into tangible beings." He told Fuji. Fuji blinked, not really understanding why exactly this had to do with anything. "Well, lets say that the reason we target you is for the negative emotion, and perhaps a psychometric ability to convey emotions into spiritual energy." Fuji blinked, and still didn't understand.

"The reason you met Tenshi is because you have that psychometric ability, and have been converging emotions into negative spiritual energy, unknowingly of course. These cause bad luck, omens, injury, death, anything. Yes, there is such a thing as coincidence, fate, and just what happens in the world, but these are negative. When a person dies by a fault of this energy, their spirit is bound to earth, causing a haunting."

"See, this is your job; after Tenshama helps you improve emotionally, your job will to be to bind back that negative energy so that it doesn't cause deaths. Tenshama will teach you how to do so when you are capable, and believe me, you will be." Fuji blinked, and the man flickered in his gaze, like a light on a candle. He turned to Tenshi.

"Tenshama, I do hope that you won't fail me this time. Do well with him, and you'll be able to keep your job." He turned back to Fuji next.

"Do you understand?"

Still slightly stunned, Fuji was able to nod slowly, and with that, the man gave his parting words. "I expect that you are going to give him a more thorough explanation if he asks, right, Tenshama?"

"Yes, sir," in another blink of the eye, they were gone, and a strange silence passed between Tenshi and Fuji. Fuji stood slowly and turned to face him. There wasn't anger anymore, but he wasn't seeing an emotion that he liked very much. Fuji looked desperate, upset.

"That's why you said that we couldn't be together," Fuji stated, knowingly. "Why did you always do such things, when… you were already dead?" His questions continued as they began walking. Tenshi looked guilty.

"Tenshi isn't your real name, is it? It's the name on that gravestone that I saw in the foreigners' graveyard. Alexei Zhivago. You died in 1981." Fuji was holding his head in his hands as he walked, and Tenshi made no move to touch him. Fuji wasn't in the mood right now, he could tell. "Why did you lie to me like that?" His anger was picking up slightly again, and his voice trembled. Fuji was desperate, breathless, and probably questioning all that he had ever felt for Tenshi.

"I just wanted to protect you, Shuusuke. If you had found that grave before you were ready to know, you would have been scared, or just thought you were crazy, seeing visions of a dead man,"

"I already thought I was crazy!" Fuji's voice interrupted Tenshi's rudely. "Your reassurance of you not being a hallucination could only go on so long before I started to lose it! I thought that I really was going crazy; I thought that you were a hallucination that was going to tell me to kill somebody, or something!" His voice was sharp, and Tenshi had to acknowledge that he was angry for very good reason. Still, though, he wasn't able to take what Fuji was saying to him without trying to win him over somehow…

"Shuusuke, I'm sorry…" his voice trailed off, and he truly regretted it. His head drooped low. He had thought that the wrath of the old man was the thing he had to worry about, but truthfully it happened that the largest threat came from the one he cared for most. The saddest thing was happened to be that everything that Fuji was saying to him was justified. He spoke in a deflated tone, and lost all will to defend himself. He'd never seen Fuji this mad before, and it broke his heart to pieces. Fuji was the only one who was able to make him this way.

"Why do you always call me by my given name?" his question was soft, almost pleading. His eyes shut and he rubbed his temples. Tenshi spoke truthfully.

"I always liked your name. I thought it was pretty." Pretty? Fuji had never thought about his given name in such a matter before. "Your whole name is nice, but I like calling you by your given name more." This was spoken from a foreigner, somebody who probably was used to calling people by those names a lot. Fuji's gaze softened a little. He wouldn't ask Tenshi to call him 'Fuji' so long as Tenshi didn't ask him to call him by 'Alexei' or 'Zhivago'.

"You lied to me…" he murmured. Their fight, brief as it had been, left them in an uncomfortable silence. Fuji blinked a few times and tried to say something, but he couldn't. The sky overhead was looking overcast, even though it was hard to tell in the dark. Both made note to hurry home, in case it rained. There were some boys walking in the distance, no, men. Fuji paid them no mind, and continued walking in silence.

They were walking alongside some public tennis courts when they met these boys, and Fuji didn't realize that they had been pointing, gawking. Perhaps they were blind to his form, or that it was just too dark, but even when Fuji got near them, they were muttering things along the line of "Wow, she's pretty. Man, what I wouldn't give for my girlfriend to look like her!"

Tenshi's eyes immediately shot up when one grabbed Fuji's arm in a tight grip. He was taller than Fuji, but not by much, and immediately, he could see the look on Fuji's face turn right to anger. This wasn't a good time to be messing with him, Tenshi thought casually. Fuji was pretty strong, and even with a distinct limp when he walked, he would do very well at defending himself.

"Ah, what's a pretty lady like you doing out here so late." Tokyo was technically a pretty safe place, distinctly free of crime, so Fuji shouldn't have much to worry about. At least, not like in America, where inner-city shootings were talked of daily on the news. Fuji's free hand calmly drifted over the man's wrist before Fuji's eyes shot open. He gave a firm twist to the wrist, and the man yelped, releasing his grip suddenly and falling to his knees. Fuji looked apathetic. He hadn't done much more than bruise the wrist, but that was only because he'd immediately reacted by releasing his grip.

Fuji was suddenly squinting when he was thrown up against the fence of the tennis courts. The man's hands were tightly around his neck, squeezing hard, and he'd closed the distance between them so that Fuji wouldn't be able to kick. Whenever Fuji struggled or attempted to punch and fight back, the hands tightened around his throat.

Fuji choked, giving a struggled gasp for air. The man let up on his grip for only a fraction of a second so that Fuji could gasp. Then he was holding Fuji in a tight choke again. "Now are you going to cooperate?" The two men standing behind the other laughed, and the still hadn't quite caught on to the fact that Fuji was a boy. Tenshi's anger was raised immediately, his eyes flashing to a shade of light green.

Fuji looked behind him, and he saw Tenshi's face. Immediately, he flinched, never having seen Tenshi angry might have been part of it, but that just wasn't the case. If he had the chance, he would gladly kill the three men for so much as laying a finger on him. Immediately, he reached out and touched the man's shoulder. He didn't seem to notice, and he simply continued by cooing false reassurances in Fuji's ear. Fuji squeezed his eyes shut not because of the men, though they might have taken pleasure in thinking so.

Tenshi was yelling something in a different language. In fact, it was a myriad of different languages, he even heard a few curse words in English before Tenshi managed to get some sense of the local language, and managed to scream "Leave him alone!" in a sentence, for the first time with perfect grammar. His hand tightened around the shoulder of the man who had chosen to attack Fuji, and suddenly, it seemed to take effect. The man keeping Fuji in a chokehold let go right away, giving a more distinguished yelp of pain. His friends were looking at him strangely, and he stumbled on his feet, as if dizzied by Tenshi's invisible touch.

"Man… my… my back! This all has something to do with her!" He jabbed a finger in Fuji's direction. "She's possessed. Let's get out of her!" They ran off in the opposite direction from whence they came without another word. Fuji fell to the ground, gasping for breath and coughing. Tenshi's anger faded quickly when he saw who was laying before him, coughing roughly. The old Tenshi was back, the dark-eyed Tenshi that Fuji knew. Even after that, though, Fuji was still shivering badly, trembling out of control.

"You…" Fuji was trembling visibly, managing to catch his breath. It seemed as though his voice had gone though. "Tenshi… you… those people…" He felt a gentle weight on his shoulder. Fuji hadn't been that scared in a long time, and with good reason. However, he saw that anger wasn't directed towards him. He felt arms drawing him into a hug. His throat was raw, and he wanted to protest it. However, now he didn't feel like he had a logical reason to be angry at Tenshi, even though he reasoned that he probably could have taken care of the situation… eventually.

There were soothing words being whispered into his ear, and fingers combing through his hair. Fuji was catching his breath, now, and but the trembling didn't stop. "Shuusuke," he started a minute later. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Fuji managed to get up his voice, now. Tenshi buried his nose against his cheek and wouldn't let go of the close hold. It was distinctly gentler, now, deliberately gentle. He got up the strength to shake his head.

"No, no…" he whispered, slightly hoarse. He was fine, except for the fact that his throat was hurting, badly. "I'm going to be fine."

Tenshi didn't seem to believe it. "Show me your neck." He released Fuji from the close hold, and lifted his chin carefully. Fuji had his hands protectively across the area where he had been grabbed so roughly, but with a small amount of coaxing he managed to get those hands down. Tenshi's fingers rubbed lightly across his throat, and he scanned for bruises. It didn't seem if there were any, though some might form later. He nodded, and finally seemed satisfied.

"Does this hurt?" His fingers lightly probed the skin across his throat, pressing gently to check for tender spots. The hurt across his throat was starting to fade, and it was being further melted away by Tenshi's touch.

"No," he answered, routinely. "It'll be fine."

"That's good. I'm glad that you aren't hurt." He played with a few pieces of Fuji's hair, and angry as Fuji had been before, his previous emotions had melted away. It was hard to remember what he was upset about, anymore. The touch was soothing, and unconsciously he leaned into it, not knowing they were still outside, and the sky above was beginning to look threatening.

"I'm sorry for lying," he mentioned a minute later, interjecting the phrase in a gentle manner. Now this, he had never said, because Tenshi never regretted lying. Somehow, now, though, he didn't see why he had done it, and felt sorry that he had misled Fuji. Was this how a person learned a lesson. Fuji nodded, and gave a small yawn. His fingertips were rubbing light circles against Fuji's cheek now, and Fuji unconsciously nuzzled into the touch.

"Tenshi," he murmured lightly. His eyes were closed again. "Why do you care about me so much? This must be like life all over again. Why would you care about somebody as insignificant as me?" Tenshi frowned.

"Because you're my everything." He muttered. "You're my light in darkness. I have no reason to be on this earth because of you." Fuji's eyes were downcast slightly, as if he didn't believe him. Tenshi was beginning to feel desperate. "That's why I could not be without you, why you can't let anything happen to yourself. I can't lose you." Fuji blinked at these words, foreign to his ears.

"I love you, you know that?" The phrase was spoken in a tender manner.

I always will… 

The next time Fuji looked up his lips were ensnared in a sweet kiss. It was fleeting, and unlike Tenshi's regular kisses. He stood up, and Fuji followed suite, giving the man a strange expression. His heart sank lightly, though, and it felt hopeless.

"Come on; we need to get home before your mother discovers you're gone."

"Yeah."

* * *

I'm done, I'm done, and I'm finally done! I'm jumping for joy.

Please review, and I ask to pay special mind to mention if I misspelled anything. I wrote this in entirely one sitting, and I've been writing for a long time and now it's really late.

Also, as a note on the paranormal phenomena theory that "Ryuk-sensei" explained, it's not true. I made most of it up, except the basic idea (which I don't really believe so much) is that a persons' energy can sometimes be projected into a negative entity.

Kyoka vows that this has absolutely nothing to do otherwise with other paranormal theories, and promises said entities aforementioned do not kill people, cause bad luck, or cause injuries.

Thank you!


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